Work Never Begun
by Kolbie Ru-Ru
Summary: This is a series of excerpts/unfinished segments from new chapters of my on-going and new fics. 9) where the spirits fly (and never die) [Naruto, AU, Wingfic], 10) lay us down (we're in love) [Persona 3, Normal AU, Minato/Akihiko], 11) Snippets!, 12) More Plot Bunnies, 13) baby don't forget my name [KnB, Time Travel, Nijimura/Haizaki], 14) a ton of snippets, mostly Sasuke-centric
1. Nothin' Ever Lasts Forever

**Story: Nothin' Ever Lasts Forever**

**Summary: Except when it does. Time Travel/Loop.**

**Category: Naruto  
><strong>

* * *

><p>"Sasuke! You're awake!"<p>

His eyes fly open, his entire body tensing involuntarily as he sits up, only for a blur of pink to cloud his vision. _Sakura_. Her arms wrap around his strangely lethargic body, hugging him tightly, and he lets her, confusion and the grogginess from sleeping too long dulling his cognitive abilities. He blearily takes in the rest of the room (white, clean, machines hooked up to his body; Conclusion: hospital) and eventually zeroes in on the others surrounding his bed.

The rest of his old team stare back at him, along with the Hokage, and the relief and concern about him etched onto their young faces is _so wrong_. It makes him _livid__regretfulhapp- _His mind _screams_ at him to run away, get away, far away from here, but he doesn't move. Presumably, he's just awoken from a prolonged slumber, and then there's the drugs still in his system; he's entirely too tired to do anything more than stay in an upright position, and that's mostly because his ex-teammate is keeping him there.

Since he's physically inhibited, he attempts to clear the fog from his mind and puzzle out the current situation. This is enemy territory, but then, why isn't he imprisoned or his chakra suppressed? There's also the fact that the Idiot is visibly younger than Sasuke had last seen him, which had only been a few months ago. Is it a ploy to make Sasuke let his guard down via the appearance of a once-trusted teammate? Surely, they couldn't believe such a thing would work on anyone, much less him.

"It's about time you woke up, Sasuke-teme," The Idiot grins at him cheerfully. Pointing a thumb at the Hokage, he says, "Me and Pervy Sage went and tracked down Tsunade-obaa-chan to cure you; she's supposed to be a really good medic."

He narrows his eyes at the non-sequitur. Why would he pretend he doesn't know the _Hokage_? Is he assuming Sasuke doesn't remember who replaced the Third? Something about this conversation rubs him the wrong way, even ignoring the weirdness of it all. It's almost as if he's heard it before...?

Hitting The Idiot once on the head, the Hokage snaps, "What did I tell you about calling me 'granny', huh, brat?!"

"I don't care what you look like! You're still an old hag!" The orange-clothed ninja retorts, quickly stepping behind Kakashi for protection as the village leader descends on him again.

Huffing in irritation, the woman points out, "You're supposed to be _grateful_, brat." Abruptly, she turns a shrewd gaze on him, looking him over expertly. "You alright, kid? There's nothing physically wrong with you." The fact that he might have _mental_ scarring goes unsaid, but the occupants of the room understand it, regardless. Sakura squeezes him more tightly, and The Idiot's face contorts with undisguised worry.

"What happened?" He demands hoarsely, not bothering to answer the woman's inquiry. Bluntness has always been his preferred method over subtlety anyway.

The Hokage and Kakashi don't outwardly react to his memory loss(?), while the moron steps out from behind cover and starts babbling with a scowl, "Che. Of course you wouldn't remember, teme." He crosses his arms and continues, "Your brother and this fish-guy showed up in the village and attacked Kakashi-sensei and tried to attack me before you turned up and tried to fight him and got your ass kicked and then he did some genjutsu thing to you, and then you and Kakashi-sensei wouldn't wake up, so me and Pervy Sage went on a journey to get Tsunade-obaa-chan to come fix you."

He takes all of his former teammate's words in, recognizes the sheer impossibility of said words, and wonders idly if his cracked mind has finally shattered completely. He thinks back to his last clear memory (_bloodpainregretwhydoyoubelieveinm-)_ and can't find it in himself to be at all surprised by this development.

Sakura - who is also much younger in appearance - finally stops clinging onto him and leans back, wiping her eyes, but she doesn't attempt to vacate her spot on his bed. Still sniffling slightly, she points out in the same haughty tone of voice Sasuke vaguely recalls her using when correcting the Idiot from his long-buried memories, "You forgot the part where she's our new Hokage, Naruto."

The boy mutters something unpleasant about the village leader, who in turn takes it upon herself to cause him more physical harm, resulting in another session of bickering. Sakura's hand stays firmly wrapped around his, even as she watches the spectacle with a small smile, and he can feel his old mentor studying him intently without even glancing up. His eyes never stray from his lap, wherein his free hand has balled into a white-knuckled fist.

Either Sasuke is reliving his own memory in dream-form, someone has cast a powerful illusion on him, or he has somehow gone back in time. The first one is unlikely; he would be able to change things were he simply asleep. The second suggestion is laughable. It's not arrogance fueling his belief that no one would be able to best him in his specialty - simply fact. _(Besides, there's no longer anyone alive strong enough to do so.)_

...Time travel, huh? Something stirs within him, an ugly, bitter thing. His mouth curls into a self-deprecating smirk because _of course_ he couldn't have traveled to before the massacre, to a time wherein he could actually make a difference. It's fitting, in a way. He's always taking one step forward and two steps back - always achieving his goals only to find out he's made things worse.

"Maa, why don't let Sasuke rest? He's only just woken up, after all," Kakashi-sensei suddenly proposes, cheerfully. Ignoring the Idiot's squawk of protest as he and Sakura are nudged out of the room, alongside the Godaime, the masked man goes on, "We have a mission to do soon, and I know neither of you have been-" The voices die down as the door closes, and the lighthearted atmosphere Sasuke hadn't even noticed vanishes with them.

He lies down and stares unseeingly at the paneled ceiling. What is he supposed to do now? The burning hatred that had kept him going even after every failure has been extinguished; there's nothing left now - only _griefpainlossdeathturmoil_. Maybe once, he might have jumped at the chance to right his wrongs, but hasn't he already proven that everything he touches eventually turns to ash? Death clings to him, like a cloak, doggedly following his footsteps no matter what he does or where he goes.


	2. When I'm Caught On Fire

**Story: When I'm Caught On Fire**

**Summary: Kagami demands to know why the hell this is happening to him of all people; he's a born and bred basketball player, damn it! He also kind of wants to punch that Tsunayoshi kid in his understanding, compassionate face. (OR: Kagami turns out to be a mafia boss, and the GoM repay unspoken debts.) AU. No Pairings.**

**Category: Kuroko no Basuke**

* * *

><p><strong>I.<strong>

"Playing basketball again, eh?"

The casual tone with which the observation was spoken does nothing to stop the shiver from wracking his body, and it is with great trepidation that Kagami turns his head slightly to take in the deceptively calm expression on his mentor's face. He represses the urge to gulp and, instead, begins to get angry. Okay, yeah, sure, he was injured... yesterday. But his idiotic Sun Guardian had been too busy catering to the mass of fangirls surrounding him to notice the bullet, and Kagami hadn't had enough time to call forth his flames to incinerate it. Knocking Kise out of the way had been all he could do.

So what if the shot nicked his shoulder in the process? It was _only_ a graze, and there was _barely_ any blood. With the way everyone's acting, you'd think he'd lost an arm or something.

Gritting his teeth, he turns around fully and grunts out, "I'm fine."

Riko merely shoots him an unimpressed look before gesturing to the newly blood-stained bandages on his shoulder. He spares them a single glance, his gaze firmly on the woman slowly sauntering toward him. Her voice is sickly sweet as she points out, "If you'd just stayed in bed like a good little mafia boss instead of needlessly aggravating your wound because of your ridiculous obsession," Imaginary arrows pierce his body as the scolding continues, "_I_ could be enjoying a relaxing bath with a glass of wine, and _you_ wouldn't be in danger of bleeding out."

Again with the exaggerations! Growling now, he spits out, "I wouldn't _have_ to sneak out of bed, and you wouldn't _have_ to_ be_ here if you weren't such a mother-hen."

Suddenly, the temperature of the room drops a few degrees, and Kagami has only a moment to regret his decision to antagonize this woman before he is being forced to the ground in a familiar crab hold and struggling to breathe. Laughing cutely, as if she isn't rather hypocritically exacerbating his injury, she asks, "What was that, Taiga-chan? Who's a mother-hen?"

Stubbornly refusing to capitulate—Give the she-demon an inch, and she'll take a mile—he says nothing, ignoring both the stinging pain in his shoulder and the failed Arcobaleno radiating dark energies above him.


	3. No Revenge, No Life

**Story: No Revenge, No Life**

**Summary: Sasuke is heavily wounded after his battle at the Valley of the End, and Orochimaru's henchmen have yet to whisk him away (not that he'd admit to needing any such help.) A curious meeting with a familiar face leads to staggering implications and some much needed enlightenment. Time travel. AU. Genfic.**

**Category: Naruto**

**Chapter 2**

* * *

><p><em>Children, hypocrisy - That's why I give; you can take it from me.<em>

_If you don't, won't live to see one last of act of tragedy._

* * *

><p>"Sasu...ke?" Sakura breathes the name beside him in disbelief, her voice little more than a whisper, and Naruto whips his head around to confirm with his own eyes that despite the fact that their mission had fallen through (when they'd been greeted by Kabuto, who'd easily seen through Yamato-sensei's disguise, and then Orochimaru, which had lead to an epic fight only for both of them to explode into smoke, having either been clones all along or replacements while their originals escaped), despite not even learning of Orochimaru's base, much less locating it, their wayward teammate <em>(always and forever) <em>is standing before them, expression blank but whole and alive and _there_.

"So, this is your old team, eh, Sasuke?" Someone finally breaks the oppressive silence, tone curious, and Naruto breaks eye contact with Sasuke, only now noticing the four figures surrounding him. There is a red-haired female sporting glasses glaring down at them from the Uchiha's right, and next to her stands a rather large man with orange hair, eyes darting between his team nervously. The one who'd spoken is male with a shark-like grin and a giant, _familiar_ sword strapped to his back.


	4. Cruelly Moving Forward

**Story: Cruelly Moving Forward**

**Concept: SI/OC is reborn as a KHR! character.**

**Category: Katekyo Hitman Reborn!**

* * *

><p><em>"It's too late to regret. Reality is just cruelly moving forward.<em>  
><em> - Tobi (Naruto Shippuden)<em>

* * *

><p><strong>Prologue<strong>

My death was gruesome.

I'd been returning from somewhere - After all this time, the finer details are lost to me - after dark in one of the seedier areas of my neighborhood when this man (whose face I can scarcely recall) popped up out of nowhere - or maybe I just hadn't seen him until he was right on top of me - and yanked me into an alley. I'd been scared frozen, embarrassingly enough, and hadn't even put up a fight.

Anyway, long story, short: He mugged me and then plunged a knife into my gut, repeatedly. I suppose I should be grateful he hadn't been a rapist or a cannibal, which would have ruined any remaining dignity I'd have had left after being one of the stereotypical movie victims I'd once scoffed at.

But enough of that. You're probably more interested in what happened _after_ that, huh? That's what this story's about, after all.

The 'afterlife' wasn't like anything I'd ever imagined. There was no fiery pit of despair and endless torture or pearly, golden gates seated majestically upon clouds, nor was there an all-consuming void of darkness in which I floated as I awaited my appointment with Death.

It was everything and nothing. It was light _and_ darkness. There were no individual souls frolicking about; there was no longer an "_I"_. There was only _"we" _and_ "us". _Calling it the 'afterlife' is incorrect. It _was_ life. It was _living_ without all of the stress or heartbreak or worries of _Before_. When I was alive, my greatest fear was being alone. _There was no such thing there - no loneliness_. We were _one_, always together, always in harmony.

Hate and sorrow, love and happiness - none of that existed there. It was serenity; it was peace. Looking back on it now, the word I would use to describe it best would be _apathy_.

I was able to forgive my murderer easily. Loathing was a concept I could no longer grasp. I did not even concern myself with the people I'd left behind. Logically, I understood they would move on, and eventually, they, too, would venture to that place and know tranquility.

Speaking of moving on, souls constantly appeared and disappeared there; whenever a gap in the entity that was _us_ opened, another few dozen souls would fill it up. I'd never thought about where they went; I didn't really ever think at all. Our 'minds' were connected; my thoughts were their thoughts and vice versa. No one else pondered much, either, once they'd settled in.

Even now, I have no way of knowing how long I'd been there. It could have been mere moments or an eternity. Time had no meaning to us, after all, and there were no changes - excluding the soul transfers - or events that could be used to measure such a thing.

My own departure from that place was gradual and so natural that I didn't question it; or, perhaps, I was simply indifferent to it. My consciousness shifted between _us _and _I_ until I eventually adopted the individual body as my own. As I stated before, it's impossible to tell time in that place - again, though, maybe no one cared enough to do so - but I can speculate that my 'reincarnation' began when I was born and only successfully ended when I - the body I'm inhabiting - was three years old.

I _was_ unconcerned about this development - to a degree - but now that I was back in reality, I could actually _feel_ things again. And I _hated _it. Well, 'hate' is a strong word, and since my time in that place, I haven't _really_ been able to experience strong emotions - only echoes; everything was toned down. It makes me wonder if maybe somewhere along the way, I'd lost of piece of myself. Everyone else (or, at least, the souls in that place) had gone through the reincarnation process as well, but I have yet to meet anyone who is distant and older than their years.

Regardless, I'd been safe and content, and now I was _alive_ and could succumb to heartache and depression and all of the other awful things life has to offer. I didn't think it was a fair trade. Still, even if I didn't see a point to this world, I wasn't suicidal; I wouldn't kill myself just to return to that place, even if I so desperately wanted to. When I was alive the first time (that I remember), I hadn't been able to picture my future, but death hadn't been an option then, either.

So I lived.

You might have noticed I haven't given many details about my past life, and I don't intend to; it's not relevant to the story I'm trying to tell. However, in order to understand me a bit better, I'll need to divulge _some_ things.

I was an eighteen year old, Caucasian, American female - legally a woman, even if those older than me rarely acknowledged me as an adult - when I died. I was considered quiet and shy, but I _chose_ not to speak incessantly around strangers and even friends. It's an unfortunate fact of life that people can be two-faced; I've witnessed first-hand 'close' friends of mine act genial towards one another and then insult each other as soon as one of them leaves the room. That's not to say _all_ of them were superficial, but I was only ever completely honest and open with my family.

How is any of this of any import? In this new life of mine, I was reborn as a little boy. Once upon a time, I might have been embarrassed by such a thing, but as with my emotions, _that place_ changed my view of gender. The notion of different sexes held no meaning there; we didn't have physical bodies, and our 'minds' were all connected - men and women alike. And, as stated before, my transfer into this body was perfectly natural. I felt as at home in this new form as I did in my old one - male reproductive organs included.

The differences don't end there, however. Whereas before I'd been a brunette, _now_, I had a head full of blond hair. My nationality had changed as well; I was born and raised in Italy. I suppose I should also mention that my memories had fused with this body's, so I knew the paltry amount of words it had absorbed in my 'absence'.

Oh, perhaps the _most_ important revelation of that transitory time period: The world I've been dumped into isn't the boring, normal Earth I'd come from. It's a world wherein mafioso have special powers, and middle school students are apparently equipped to save it _with_ those powers - the world of Katekyo Hitman Reborn!

It's _also_ supposed to be fictional, but, _well_, I'd never really bought in to the whole 'reincarnation' thing, either. I wonder, does that make Akira Amano our 'Creator'? Technically, I existed _before_ I came here - which brings up another great point. I should have taken the chance the meet Amano-san while I was in the other world, so I'd be able to smugly say I'd already _met_ my maker. But I digress.

You're probably wondering, oh so curious voices in my head, what part I play with the aforementioned super-mafioso. I could explain why I'm involved with the mafia and how I affect the KHR! world, but why waste my time doing that when giving you my name would do so with much less effort on my part?

I am Dino, soon-to-be(?) boss of the Chiavarone Famiglia and eventual mentor/big brother figure to Sawada Tsunayoshi, the Vongola Decimo.

No pressure, eh?


	5. And Then I Died

**Story:** And Then I Died

**Summary: **Dino hasn't always been a bartender making below minimum wage and living off of tips, but, then again, he hasn't always been a lot of other things either. He's resigned himself to the never-ending cycle until this life's Hibari Kyouya happens upon his bar and becomes his very own regular. "Order something other than tea." "Why should I?" "Because this a bar, damn it!" Hibari/Dino. Oodles of humor.

**Category: **Katekyo Hitman Reborn!

* * *

><p>The flow of men with pinched, unpleasant faces attempting to drown their woes after a presumably long day in a stuffy cubicle and lively, rowdy college kids looking for a good time and a whole lot of alcohol finally disperses around two in the morning, leaving only the regulars. Dino has grown rather fond of them - if not for their company, then for their blessed appreciation of silence.<p>

He grabs a rag and begins wiping down the bar mechanically, knowing very well that his manager tends to swoop in like a hawk at any sign of idleness. With only the occasional murmur of the bar's occupants and the muffled noise of the outside world, the blonde soon finds himself lost in thought.

Dino hasn't always been a bartender making below minimum wage and living off of tips, but, then again, he hasn't always been a lot of other things either. He'd been the boss of a mafia family - and a scrawny, apathetic teenager before that. He'd made his famiglia prosper. He'd helped change the bloody, ruthless mafia into something _worth_ being apart of. Heck, he'd even saved the world a few times. And then, he died.

Except, he didn't _stay _dead.

Like any normal person, he'd thought of it as a 'second chance.' The circumstances of his new life had been altered slightly - his mother was the boss before him, not his father, Tsuna was eighteen when they met, etc. - but despite that, he'd been able to correct any mistakes he'd made before and live a fulfilling life. When he'd closed his eyes for what was supposed to be the final time, he hadn't had any regrets.

And yet, he'd opened his eyes to an unfamiliar blue ceiling not a moment later.

He's not quite certain when the do overs began to feel daunting rather than exciting, or when the smiling faces of loved ones began to send shards of pain lancing through his heart rather than warmth, or when the prospect of death began to sound appealing rather than horrifying. Perhaps, it's when he realized there was no way _out_.

Nevertheless, at some point, he removed himself completely from the formula he'd been following and pursued different avenues. (It was, he thinks with a dull ache in his chest, almost too easy to erase his friends and family from his life entirely.) He's been an assassin, a baker, an information broker, a kindergarten teacher, a singer, a professional athlete, an author - the list could go on forever.

He'd 'woken up' as a sixteen year old this time, the only son to the owners of a successful chain of bars in Italy. His family had long since moved away from criminal activities over the endless repeats, excepting the odd existence every now and then. (Funnily enough, whenever Dino has the time and resources to check on them, Tsuna and the others are all always involved with the mafia somehow, whether they are apart of or firmly against it.)

Having been groomed to take over the family business since he'd been old enough to handle the glass bottles without breaking them - Memories don't come with the new life, unfortunately; this is something he's gathered from his father's many 'heart-to-heart's - Dino had spent the last five years learning the ins and outs of the profession and had become rather good at it, if his parents' words are anything to go by.

So of course, he moved to America and got a job at a rundown, shabby excuse for a pub as soon as possible. If his many lives have given him _any__thing_, it's a yearning for independence (and just maybe, a bit of a backbone.)

The pay is laughable, sure, but the owner is a prickly-on-the-outside-but-soft-on-the-inside kind of guy, and he took Dino in without any questions, his eyes alight with an understanding the blonde had so desperately needed _(still needs) _at the time. Room and board are free, at least, so he doesn't have anything to complain about, really. The monotony is even comforting, in a way.

He's moved on to taking stock of the bottles on the shelves and the contents of the kegs when he hears the chime of the bell tied to the front door signalling a new customer. He finishes his assessment quickly and then turns around to greet the new patron. It's only prior experience with such situations that keeps him from freezing in place or gaping unattractively at the familiar face. (Inwardly, he is _freaking out_.)

"I was informed this establishment serves adequate tea," Hibari Kyouya drawls in perfect English, displeasure at the lack of respectable tea vendors in this country showing rather plainly on his aristocratic face. He's clad in a black business suit worn over an indigo button up, and his hair is slightly disheveled due to the wind. Dino would guess him to be anywhere between twenty and twenty five years old.

Years later, he'll look back on this day and wonder what, exactly, he'd been thinking, opening himself up even the tiniest bit to his once-protege; then, he'll shake his head and smile, ruefully, because it had probably been inevitable. Now, however, perhaps from the sudden shock, perhaps from something else, he says, "We have green tea," despite the fact that they'd never served anything other than alcohol and that the tea he's referring to was bought with his own meager wage for _him _to consume.

"I suppose that will suffice," the mafioso (because he's sure that's what he is, new life or not) acquiesces, perching himself on the bar stool directly in front of Dino, and the bartender scrambles to find the kettle (lodged behind the spare cocktail maker in the lower cabinet) and the box of tea bags he'd purchased a few weeks ago in a fit of nostalgia (wedged between some crackers and hot chocolate in the pantry.)

Under Hibari's watchful eye, the blonde fills the electric kettle with water, plugs it in, and turns it on. One of the remaining customers then orders another beer for himself and his companion, so Dino takes care of them during the wait, very much aware of his old friend's unwavering attention. He'd considered the possibility of the others remembering something - anything - from their previous lives, but he's never asked, and no one's ever revealed as much - to him, at the very least.

He dismisses the notion when he returns to his place behind the bar and doesn't read any recognition in the other man's eyes; as unreadable as Hibari normally is, Dino would think that _some _emotion would leak through regarding something as impossible as reincarnation.

Neither of them attempt a conversation - Dino, because he doesn't even know what he _would_ say, and Hibari, because the man has never been one for small talk (especially with strangers), anyway - so the barkeep merely dries glasses until the kettle switches off. He puts away those dishes, pulls out a (_his_) tea cup, rinses it out with some of the boiling water, and places a tea bag in it. He then pours water into the cup and slides it over to the man.

"Here you go," He says, unnecessarily. "We don't have any sugar or milk, so I'm afraid you're going to have to drink it plain." The Hibari he remembers had always taken the drink that way, but a change in preference could simply be one of the alterations between lifetimes.

"Hmm," The man murmurs, as the clear water slowly changes color. The obvious dissatisfaction from earlier has given way to contemplation, and Dino is suddenly reminded that the majority of Americans prepare a sad attempt at proper tea (at least, compared to the rest of the world) and that his ability to make even a decent cup of it could possibly ensure future visits.

_Crap_, he thinks, and then realizes that Hibari works out of this country (probably), so he tells himself not to worry over nothing. The rest of the black-haired man's stay is spent in more silence, and Dino can admit, reluctantly, that the companionship is a nice change of pace. Everyone else has left by the time Hibari finishes his tea, and the blonde is simply waiting for the man to leave to close down for the night.

"It's on the house," Dino blurts out when he notices the man reaching for his wallet. Hibari raises an eyebrow at him, and he hastily explains, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, "We don't actually serve tea here. You looked like you _really_ needed some, so I figured it wouldn't hurt to make you a cup. Besides, I don't even know if I _can_ charge you."

Embarrassingly enough, the mafioso continues to stare at him, as if trying to pick him apart and unlock all his secrets. _Good luck_, he thinks wearily. The impromptu stare down is interrupted by a shout from his manager, and Dino looks away for a moment to address the man. When he turns back around, he finds a vacated bar stool, an empty tea cup, and five dollars.

(A few days later, with burning cheeks, Dino orders a few boxes of high quality green tea from an online Japanese tea shop. He grumbles irritably to himself and mourns the loss of half of his paycheck.)

::

The next time Hibari walks into the hovel of a bar that is Dino's workplace, it's almost a month later, and the blonde has all but forgotten their brief exchange; for him, it was only one of a million interactions, and regardless, he knows how to keep his mind off of wants and regrets. (A lesser man might have gone insane; as it is, he's not quite sure he hasn't already.)

It's busier at this time of day - not as chaotic as happy hour, but still disorderly enough to distract Dino from his old friend's arrival and subsequent seating at the bar. He's just sent off the last enthusiastic patron with a mug of frosted beer when he spots the man, once again dressed to the nines and practically radiating annoyance at the crowded room.

"Hey, what can I get you?" He asks, because he's supposed to. _"What do you think you're doing, appearing in my life again?" _He doesn't ask, because that's a crazy question, and his heart is pounding hard enough as it is.

He knows the answer before it comes out of the man's mouth, but he's still marginally surprised all the same. "Green tea," Hibari requests in a tone that makes it clear it's really a demand.

"I already told you; we don't serve that here," is another thing he doesn't say. Instead, inexplicably, he nods and begins the process of boiling the water, all the while protesting to himself in his mind.

He fiddles with his bow tie as they wait, feeling slightly ridiculous wearing professional attire in such a casual, rundown pub, and envies the man across from him for looking entirely too comfortable in his formal suit before realizing how childish that is and placing his attention on the customer who walks in.

He recognizes the middle-aged man immediately, for he is one of the regulars the blonde has grown to like. Despite the graying hair, his face holds a boyish charm that makes him seem years younger, especially as he smiles and calls out cheerfully, "Dino, hey! How's it going?"

He grins back, the customer's happiness infectious, and only spares a glance at Hibari and the still boiling water before going over to greet the man. "Glad you finally decided to drop in, James," He answers back teasingly, both of them fully aware of the fact that the man stops by nearly every Friday.

"Heh, if I didn't know any better, I'd think you were looking forward to my visits." His eyes sparkle with mischief, and Dino lets out a laugh, even as he pulls out the man's usual mixture and begins mixing it together.

Winking, he divulges, "You got me." Throwing the bottle up in the air and catching it behind his back - child's play compared to fighting with a whip or any of the other weapons he's wielded - followed by a few other neat tricks, he finishes the drink and slides it over to James, bowing graciously to the cheering of the other customers a beat later.

He feels a familiar burning gaze and swivels to the left, catching piercing ocean blue eyes, and in that moment, it's only the two of them, staring at one another, and Dino gets the sudden urge to -

The trance is broken when a person at the back of the bar coughs loudly, and the blonde hastily moves to make Hibari's green tea, heart once again beating frantically. _What am I even doing?_ He muses despondently. He uses the new, higher quality tea bags (If Hibari notices, he doesn't comment on it) and places it in front of the man.

The mafioso gingerly lifts the glass to his lips and tastes it, apparently deeming it adequate. The pleasant aroma wafting from the cup brings about of a sense of longing in the bartender, and he shakes his head to clear it. He peers down at the end of the bar, and upon seeing that James has engaged in conversation with another customer, a bubble of irritation wells up inside of him. _Someone save me from this awkwardness_, he pleads silently.

"Dino, is it?" A smooth voice cuts through his thoughts, and he looks to its source. Hibari Kyouya is pinning him with the eyes of a predator, and he resists the urge to squeak in surprise. _I'm like a million years older than him, _he assures himself. _He__ doesn't scare me._

"Uh, yes?" He manages, attempting to surreptitiously back away, because that little voice inside his head isn't fooling anybody. It hits him that Hibari has just said his name, and just as suddenly, he realizes that James had practically announced it when he'd entered the room. _Damn you, James!_

Just then, Hibari's phone rings, and it must be from someone important (Tsuna, perhaps) because he gives it a look of utter disdain but still stands to leave. He pulls out his wallet, and Dino hurries to correct the situation.

"Like I said before, we don't normally serve tea here, so you don't need to pay me." He hesitates and then adds, "If you want to find a place that serves _good_ tea, I'd suggest an Asian restaurant."

The man pauses and levels him with another _look_, and Dino's treacherous cheeks heat up visibly. Hibari smirks at him, then, and leaves money on the counter before walking away, pressing the phone to his ear as he does so.

"I'll bite you to death," Dino hears the man threaten venomously just as the door closes behind him.

_Why are you so damn cryptic, Hibari?! _He bemoans to no one in particular.

::

He's out shopping one day (because he was forced to take a day off by Ben, the bar's owner; apparently, the old man had 'grown sick' of Dino's face. He interprets this as: 'you need to get out more often', which is honestly just as insulting even if it _is_ true), and his eye catches on a weather worn bull whip in the window of an antique shop.

_I'll just take a quick peek at it_, he thinks with resolve.

Ten minutes later, he walks out with a new weapon and a thinner wallet, thoroughly disgusted with himself. Half an hour later, he practices with it in his one bedroom apartment and manages to break the only lamp he owns. He hadn't expected he'd still be able to aim so well considering it had quite literally been decades since he'd touched a whip, but perhaps lessons learned from his old tutor cannot be forgotten so easily.

He works up a sweat and a tiredness in his very bones that is pleasantly familiar and yet a painful reminder of days long past. He attempts one last thing before putting the fine leather away, pulse rising in anticipation.

His hand glows a fiery orange, and Dino smiles wistfully.

::

There's a light dusting of snow on the ground by the time Hibari returns, and the entire bar is warmed by a fire Dino stokes every once in a while. The room is flooded with out-of-towners come to visit their families and locals celebrating their vacation time with cocktails and martinis, so the noise level is higher than usual.

Ben doesn't see the need to decorate the place what with the whole block lit up with Christmas lights and various other holiday trinkets, but he didn't say no to the two waitresses he'd hired (just for this busy season) when they'd asked to bring odds and ends from home. Under their guidance, the decrepit, old bar seemed less like a crime scene and more like a respectable (if not, somewhat tacky) establishment.

The girls, Stacey and Alyssa, even changed up their wardrobes to fit the season. Pointy ears, green striped stockings beneath their uniform skirts, and green hats transformed them into beautiful elves. They insisted that Dino wear antlers and a fluffy tail clipped to the back of his apron, and he capitulated, unable to bring himself to ruin their fun just because _he_ didn't feel much like celebrating anything. (After being hit by their double puppy-dog eyes, he understands why even his boss had caved to their whims.)

He's just served his umpteenth bourbon eggnog to a tipsy grandma when he hears an enthused shout of "Let's celebrate to the extreme!" that could only have come from the mouth of one person. Not a moment later, Sasagawa Ryohei steps into view, his suit ruffled and his eyes burning with excitement. He makes his way toward Dino, and it's then that the blonde finally notices the boxer's companion.

"Let's get extremely drunk, Kyouya!" Ryohei proposes as he slides into one of the bar stools.

From his own seat, Hibari reminds him, disdainfully, "I don't drink alcohol, herbivore."

"Then, why did you invite me to a bar, bastard?!" The orange-clad man demands, indignant. Dino can't help but think he has a good point.

Utterly unrepentant, his old student rebuts, "I didn't invite you anywhere; you followed me of your own accord."

"Agh! You piss me off so much!" Ryohei growls, standing up and assuming a standard boxing position. "I'll wipe that smug look of your face! Fight me, Kyouya!"

Not looking the least bit worried, Hibari says, "Stop acting like a fool. I'll bite you to death when we return to Japan."

"Alright!" He agrees and then plops back down on the stool. Abruptly, he faces Dino, who had been quite obviously watching the entire interaction, and orders in only slightly accented English, "Bartender! I'd like a beer to the extreme!"

It's only then that he realizes the exchange between Hibari and Ryohei had been entirely in Japanese, which he, of course, understands perfectly - but _they_ wouldn't know that. Dino would like to have pretended not to understand anything they'd said, but Hibari's sudden scrutiny most likely means the man knows the blonde had caught most of it, if not every word. _I'm not interesting! _He screams inwardly.

"Okay. And you?" He asks blandly, resigned to the man's complete disregard for his protests.

The smirk he receives in response is really annoying; he can feel his eye twitching. Smugly, Hibari replies, "I would like a green tea, _Dino_."

* * *

><p><strong>Notes: <strong>I don't even know what I'm writing. *flails haplessly* Nevertheless, if I ever bring myself to finish this, it'll be posted as a one-shot. Let me know if you want to see more!

_(Why is romance so hard to write? *sobs inconsolably in a corner*)_


	6. When I Doubt, You're My Belief

_**"Can anything be sadder than work left unfinished? Yes, work never begun." **_

_**- Christina Rossetti**_

* * *

><p><strong>Story: When I Doubt, You're My Belief<strong>

**Summary: Sakura goes back in time via a super secret time-travel-y jutsu and strives to save the world and all that good stuff - only this time around, "she" is a "he." Parody. Time Travel. No Pairings.**

**Category: Naruto**

* * *

><p><strong>I.<strong>

"-and the members of Team 7 are Uzumaki Naruto, Uchiha Sasuke... and Haruno Byakuran," Iruka manages to get the words out with only a brief hiccup, and none of the students realize anything is amiss. He patiently counters Naruto's increasingly petulant protests, all the while eying the boy's teammates with no small amount of wariness.

He hadn't had much of an input in the team assignments, unfortunately. His own reports about their academic performances and temperaments and what not had been collected throughout the year, of course, and the higher ups had certainly taken them into consideration. Ultimately, however, the decision was up to them, and he can spot their influence all of over _this_ team's makeup.

The last Uchiha, the jinchuuriki, and the civilian prodigy – On paper, it sounds like the ideal team. With Sasuke's Sharingan and clan techniques, Naruto's overwhelming chakra and loyalty to the village, and Byakuran's intelligence and competence, Team 7 _should _have the potential for greatness.

"But Sasuke-teme is just gonna drag me down! And Flower Boy doesn't ever _do_ anything! How am I supposed to become Hokage like this, Iruka-sensei?!" Naruto bellows, pointing accusingly at the aforementioned boys. Byakuran has his nose buried in an advanced book (on medical jutsu, of course; the kid's been studying techniques far above his peers since he'd joined the Academy), and Sasuke has his patented scowl directed firmly at the window. Neither of them seem to be paying any attention to Naruto's perceived crisis.

Resisting the urge to rub his temples to ward off the oncoming headache, he frowns at the boy and points out sternly, "The Hokage has to be able to work well with _every_one, Naruto – not just the people he likes. You're never going to have your face on that mountain if you can't even do _this_ without acting like a child."

The boy's face falls – and Iruka feels a twinge of guilt; he'd only _just_ gotten Naruto to open up to him – but his grin is back in full force as he declares loudly, banging a hand on the desk, "Alright! I don't care _who's_ on my team 'cause we're gonna be the best! And _I'm _gonna become Hokage one day. Believe it!"

Sasuke snorts derisively, and Kiba begins to taunt him while the others simply roll their eyes at his big words. Iruka smiles fondly at him, inwardly wondering at _his_ ability to pretend this kid wasn't just a normal, hardworking student for so many years when it's so blatantly obvious. He grimaces as the room is overcome with bickering and quickly regains control when he threatens to hold them back in his class for another year.

He smiles brightly at all of their worried, little faces – almost all of them, that is. Naruto, frankly, looks outraged. Sasuke has turned his death glare up to maximum power. (If the boy ever makes it to jounin, Iruka _might_ be inclined to quiver in his sandals. For now, he simply finds it adorable, if not humorous.) Byakuran, however, is simply regarding his peers with barely concealed amusement.

Iruka moves onto the rest of the teams, but he continues to muse over the topic of team 7. On _paper_, it's the wonder team of the entire graduating class, even including the other two teams comprised of future clan heads. In _reality_, the three of them are more likely to fail their sensei's test or - if by some miracle, they manage to pass – be utterly incapable of completing _D-Ranks_. Sasuke is entirely too haughty and full of himself to deign to work with the other two, Naruto will probably spend most of his time picking fights with Sasuke, and Byakuran will most likely ignore the both of them and focus solely on his own training, as he is wont to do.

It's a walking disaster, and Iruka _almost_ pities the fool who has to deal with them – only considering what fool it _is_, he's more concerned about his students' well-beings, which, honestly, says it all.

Clearly, the Council is plotting the destruction of its own village or, at the very least, attempting to drive its people into insanity.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: "Byakuran" means "White Orchid", by the way. (I kind of stole it from Katekyo Hitman Reborn. Sorry not sorry. xD) The idea is that Sakura goes back in time, but she somehow changes gender in the transition. Sound familiar? It happens to Naruto in fics all the time. I don't ever read those, actually, but I still kind of wanted to see one where it happened to Sakura. Also, she's born with her dad's white hair, hence the name.**

**Anyway, this one's probably going to be a one-shot (_if I ever get around to it_) 'cause I have enough on-going fics on my plate as it is. And even as I'm posting this, I'm falling out of love with this 'style', so the final draft might be completely different, even if the idea is the same.**

**Let me know if you want to see more! (For any of the fics on here, of course!) :D**


	7. Where My Demons Hide

**Title: **Where My Demons Hide

**Summary: **Naruto and Sakura die on their first mission outside of the village, and Sasuke, grief-stricken, is quick to join them. Then he wakes up again, on the day before they set out, as if it had never happened. (OR: Team 7 develops a formidable reputation, and Sasuke learns what it means to be strong.) Time Loop. No Pairings.**  
><strong>

**Category: **Naruto

* * *

><p><em>"When you feel my heat, look into my eyes, it's where my demons hide, it's where my demons hide." <em>

* * *

><p><strong>- <strong>Sasuke has finally become a genin, an official shinobi, so now he's on the fast track to enacting revenge on That Man, right? His not-a-dream is put on hold, however, when his teammates die right before his eyes on their first C-Rank mission. He has but a moment to take in the horrible reality before he joins them in death - only to wake up again, the day of that godforsaken mission, alive but no longer whole.

- In which Sasuke does everything he can to keep his teammates-comrades-FRIENDS alive, regardless of his own well-being. He has no way of knowing which 'reset' will be the last, so every one has to count.

- In which he slowly, oh so slowly comes to the realization that the only way to keep his loved ones alive is to **_stay with them_** and, ultimately, abandon his ambition. He's sure that his parents, that his Clan, would have wanted that, for him to become a strong shinobi and to proudly uphold and represent the noble Uchiha name - not for him to succumb to his despair and anger or to blindly follow in That Man's footsteps in committing familicide.

- In which Team 7 becomes a formidable force in their own right, with a remarkable track record of no deaths - and sometimes, barely a scratch - given the hazards of their seemingly inevitably botched missions.

- In which Naruto and Sakura are (at first) bewildered when Sasuke's frigid glares and standoffish attitude morph into begrudging tolerance, exasperation, and not-so-well hidden fondness - but they eventually take the change as the gift - peace offering? - it is and begin to open themselves up to him and to each other, sharing in insecurities, memories, and idle chatter.

- In which Kakashi knows that something is odd about his arrogant and revenge-driven student, especially when those two traits seem to disappear almost entirely without warning. He can feel that something is terribly wrong when he looks in the boy's - child's - eyes and sees death. (And sometimes during the repeats, he gets the gist of it, of Sasuke's burden, whenever one or both of his students meets a terrible fate and the Uchiha doesn't even seem fazed, only resigned, regretful, and determined - to save them? He thinks so.)

- In which the world is saved (and destroyed) time and again, not because Sasuke has any interest in doing so (although he's gotten so, _so _sick of death and needless fighting that that statement isn't quite true anymore) but because his idiot of a best friend has some sort of hero complex, and Sasuke must be the _bigger idiot_ because he follows Naruto into trouble willingly. (He can't very well leave him alone, can he? Naruto's deaths are always worse, somehow, when Sasuke isn't there to witness them. And he always, always dies.)

- In which Itachi seeks Sasuke out on his own, and the younger of them learns the truth (over and over again), but _no matter how many times he stabs himself_, _he doesn't wake up before the battle. _It turns out to be the one thing - other than the massacre - that he can't change. Afterward, he cries for himself, for his brother, and for their parents, and then he doesn't allow himself to shed any tears, anymore.

(His stupid, wonderful teammates crowd around him, cry with him, and apologize for things they didn't have any control over.

"Shut up," He mumbles from within their warm embrace. His voice comes out softer than he means it to.

Kakashi, whom had been standing and keeping a silent vigil over the three of them, merely smiles at him, gentle and amused.)

- In which Tobi-Madara turns out to be Obito, his sensei's old, supposed-to-be-dead teammate. Kakashi had regaled them with stories of his genin team, and Obito had always been regarded with the utmost respect and an almost child-like hero-worship that Sasuke hadn't exactly thought healthy - but who was he to judge, really? He sees none of that man in _this one_, and he tells his horrorstruck teacher as much. He expects a fight to the death (and gets one, many, but it never seems right, does it), but Naruto and Kakashi and even Sakura manage to convince the man to give up his plans of world domination (Sasuke knows that's not it _exactly_, but it's all the same to him.)

The three of them are soft and yet somehow much, much stronger than he or Obito could ever be, he muses quietly to himself.

- In which the shinobi villages come to the brink of war through the combined efforts of Madara (the real one, this time) and Orochimaru, only to be averted by Konoha's best and brightest, meaning, of course, Team 7 and the rest of the Twelve. (And maybe Obito and the jounin and Sannin, but mostly the younger generation.)

- In which Sasuke's loved ones (which has grown to include a lot more people) still die on occasion, but he is always there to change their fates. It's a gift and a curse, and he's lived the same days more than he count - but it's all worth it in the end, isn't it?

* * *

><p><em>"Don't get too close; it's dark inside. It's where my demons hide; it's where my demons hide."<em>

* * *

><p><strong>Notes: <strong>Okay, so I know there's a lot of stuff I haven't covered here, and I'll probably add more details later. However, as of this moment, I like this as is - enough to post it, at least. I only started brainstorming this yesterday (on my phone, no less) and typed it up just now, so please excuse mistakes.

The idea came to me and wouldn't leave, but I didn't feel up to actually writing a full-fledged chapter/fic. So here's this, which is the gist of it. I want to write a time loop fic with Sasuke wherein he grows as a shinobi and as a person and becomes close to Naruto, Sakura, and Kakashi (and eventually others.) It has the potential for a _ton _of angst (and there will be some), but I'm going to try my best to keep it light and happy.

If you want to see this as an actual fic, then let me know! And if you want to bounce ideas off of me or suggest something, do that, too! Thanks for reading. :D

[Title and words in italic come from "Demons" by Imagine Dragons.]


	8. A House Divided

**Title: **A House Divided

**Summary:** When Itachi is given the impossibly difficult decision to either betray his Clan or betray the village, he carves his own path instead. The fate of Konoha lies solely within the hands of the adults responsible now. (OR: Itachi takes Sasuke and abandons ship, and they grow stronger together.) No Pairings. AU.

**Category: **Naruto

**Quote: **_"A house divided_ _against itself cannot stand." _- Abraham Lincoln

* * *

><p>- In which Itachi has grown tired of the manipulations and corruption running rampant within his own Clan and the upper echelons of the village and their incessant arguing over boundaries and imagined slights and age-old grudges when there are very real problems going ignored - child soldiers and tensions between villages and <em>so much unnecessary death.<em>

He watches this with carefully concealed judgement and plans of averting the oncoming storm with Shisui; he just needs to play the fields, gather the right intel, smooth the ruffled feathers. He can tolerate his father's disappointment and the expectations placed upon him, as long as it amounts to _something._

And then Shisui moves without him, _abandons him, _and the Clan becomes wary of him, accusatory and hostile and he thinks, _What are we trying to save?  
><em>

- In which Danzo forces his hand, offers him an ultimatum, and _threatens Sasuke_ with the smug, cat-that-caught-the-canary not-quite-smirk he only flashes to Itachi behind the Sandaime's back.

(Save the Clan? Save the village?

What choice does he have that will end in the least amount of bloodshed?

No. What choice will end in the least amount of trauma for Sasuke?

He almost smiles. There's really no choice at all.)

- In which Itachi packs and plans and waits until the right moment. When it arrives, he grabs a sleeping Sasuke and leaves the village, with no one the wiser. He doesn't look back.

- In which he teaches Sasuke everything he knows and things he picks up along the way. Itachi is a child prodigy, and Sasuke soaks in the knowledge in a way that Itachi knows means he's not the only one. It's comforting. He won't always be there to protect his little brother, but maybe he won't have to be.

- In which Itachi becomes an S-Ranked criminal - a missing nin - and he almost snorts in derisive amusement. Would his life have been any different had he taken Danzo's carefully laid out paths? Dead or marked a criminal, but with a scarred sibling left behind with nothing but questions and festering hatred. (Because Itachi would have had to lie to him, convince him of his treachery, made him come after Itachi in the hopes that when Sasuke finally defeated him, there'd be no one else out there who could harm his little brother.)

- In which Sasuke doesn't understand, completely, why they'd had to flee their home, their Clan, but the tired, somber expression his nii-san gets whenever Sasuke even mentions it quells his curiosity, for now. It _must_ be bad if it can make his invincible older brother look like an old man.

- In which Sasuke grows up to become a frightening enemy in his own right (because he made a promise to himself that he'd surpass his nii-san, didn't he? So maybe he'll become the protector, become _useful_, because the enemies are only going to keep coming, and his brother can only take so much on his own.)

- In which the Leaf is left trying to calm the threat of the Uchiha without their double agent, and likewise, the Clan is left staggering and split into different factions when their Clan's future Head and his brother suddenly disappear without warning. What results is a shaky alliance, lots of tension in the air, and the other Clans beginning to take notice.

* * *

><p><strong>Notes: Here's another idea that's been bugging me. As you can see, I don't really have anything planned out yet.<strong>


	9. where the spirits fly (and never die)

**Title: **where the spirits fly (and never die)**  
><strong>

**Summary: **Minato exchanged his life for the use of Reaper Death Seal. Such deals go deeper than death. (OR: Minato is a Guardian Angel.) Wingfic. No Pairings. AU.

**Category: **Naruto

**Title: **"Haunted" by Skylar Grey

* * *

><p>- The shinigami he'd summoned appoints him as a guardian angel - or bodyguard or undead babysitter; the entity doesn't care much for that title. It's Minato who prefers the term - to the son he'd died to protect. His life was exchanged for the use of the Reaper Death Seal, and that includes his afterlife is well. He is assured that his wife is safe - in what the shinigami says is the place souls go to rest and what the mortals refer to as heaven - and that he'll see her again, once his duty is done. Minato carefully doesn't ask when that might be, suspecting the answer with an unpleasant twinge in his chest already.<p>

- Nothing has changed appearance-wise except for the addition of two almost blindingly white wings that, once fully extended, are as tall as him and at least three feet in width. They curve down, with the longest of his feathers almost-but-not-quite touching the floor. They are nearly see-through and incredibly light. There is no strain on his back at all, and they feel like an extension of himself, as if they'd been there all along and Minato had only just taken notice of them. He flexes them with barely a thought, and they respond easily. Childlike wonder fills his face as he takes flight, and he laughs.

- Time flows differently outside of the natural world, and his precious baby boy is no longer a baby when he finally returns to him. He is a ball of energy at six years old, loud and cheerful and talkative and with a grin that lights up the room. Minato is surely not biased when he notices these things, only observant.

- He quickly realizes that, rather than be lauded as a hero for stopping the Nine Tails from ravaging the village, his son is instead treated with suspicion and mistrust and hatred. Minato regards these sneering civilians - and Shinobi - with cold fury. His wings flare threateningly, and his mind runs through scenarios that will most efficiently handle the situation.

- It is human nature to want to place the blame upon someone or something else, but it is common sense! that without Naruto, there'd be no village left! What did Minato die for, what did he leave Naruto for, if this is the way his own son is being treated?

- He wraps his arms around a sniffling Naruto, and without conscious thought, his wings curl around the both of them, comfort and protectiveness and love emanating from him in waves. Naruto doesn't react outwardly, but he eventually does pull himself together, a small smile on his face.

- Naruto, throughout his life, has always felt a steady presence next to him, unseen and unheard, but he knows he's not imagining the feeling of belonging and comfort that seems to cling to him, especially when he is in any way upset. And he's not imagining the lack of tormentors or bullies that had always seemed to hone in on his location as soon as he so much as stepped outside. And he's not imagining the gentle but firm shove he'd felt when he'd hesitated in going after Sasuke-teme, uncertain in a way that isn't like him at all.

(He had gone after him, then, taking the encouragement as his own strength and chasing after the boy and doggedly chasing some more, until the kid finally acknowledged him. They become almost inseparable, leaching onto each others' insecurities and doubts and loneliness. Naruto may always feel that presence, but it's just _that_ - a presence. It's not tangible, not someone he can talk to or hug back or confide in. Sasuke is all of those things and more because he _understands_.)

- Minato approves.

* * *

><p><strong>Notes: <strong>So this probably won't be more than one chapter, and even then, it'll most likely be short. Still, though, I like imagining Minato watching over Naruto, and I kind of need some fluffiness right now. Let me know if you'd like to see it! ^w^


	10. lay us down (we're in love)

**Title: **lay us down (we're in love) - Panic! At The Disco

**Original Prompt: **Sitting-next-to-each-other-on-a-long-bus-ride AU

**Summary: **Minato's new school involves a long commute via train, and only one other person shares it with him. Minato/Akihiko. AU. [still working on the summary, actually]

**Category: **Persona 3**  
><strong>

* * *

><p>You stifle a yawn as you board the train, blearily taking in the empty car. It seems, much as you'd expected, that this trip just might be a solitary one. You shrug and then drop into the seat nearest to you, settling in for the two hour commute. It can't be helped that your mother is attached to the countryside. If it makes her happy, you're certainly not going to put up a fuss.<p>

You adjust your earphones absentmindedly, as soothing jazz blocks out the rattling of the train. Your mother's beloved view zooms by through the window, only interrupted by the various men and women going about their daily lives. You close your eyes and turn up the volume, leaning your head against the back of the seat.

You realize you are no longer alone instantly, some mysterious voice in your head imparting the knowledge to you, and you heed the warning. Your gaze immediately lands upon the new arrival, another high school student, whom regards you with some surprise. Perhaps it is because he, like you, had expected to be welcomed with a vacant car.

You nod a greeting to him, and the action seems to break him out of his daze. He returns it with a little wave and then sits opposite you, his expression mildly curious, but after a moment, he pulls out his phone, apparently losing interest.

You are grateful for the lack of questions. Listening to others is always fascinating, but you prefer not to speak much, if at all. Regardless, you survey the other occupant, from his red vest and the bandage on his face to the boxing gloves sticking out of his bag and the hint of toned muscles in his arms. Boxer, obviously, and a dedicated one at that. Senior, most likely - going by the uniform, from Gekkoukan, one of the schools you'd considered but ultimately decided against.

You position yourself more comfortably and shut your eyes, allowing the music to wash over you once more. You know when the car is empty again the same way you'd known when it wasn't. The voice might have concerned you, but it has only been helpful so far. You are not one to panic easily in any case.

It warns you of your own stop, and so begins your first day in your new school.

.::.

You don't see him again after school, and you attribute this to club activities.

You receive a message from another boy you'd met today, Junpei, and you type an appropriate response. The start of a friendship? Perhaps. You have never been particularly close to anyone before, but you're not disinclined to start now. Yukari, the girl in the seat next to you, had also seemed interesting, and her interactions with Junpei had been rather amusing.

Already this school year looks promising.

.::.

Your morning commute has become somewhat of a comforting routine, especially in light of your newly occupied afternoons interacting with the numerous people you'd come to know over the past few weeks.

You'd met Kenji in your class, and you'd encouraged him to pursue his love interest. Then came Kazushi, whom had warmed up to you after you'd helped out the kendo team, and Yuko, whom had bounced along beside him. The boy had been impressed by your skill and had asked you to join, but you'd quit and had no intention of returning.

Bebe somehow convinced you to sew with him. The boy is a ball of excitement and wide-eyed wonder, and you find him endearing. There is also the couple that owns the bookstore near the station, and you've spent some time with them as well, happily helping out.

Your excursions generally leave you either mentally or physically exhausted as you fight to stay awake on the way home, and you are often joined by men and women returning home from work. You attempt drown the world out, but you can still feel the tension and stress radiating off of the others around you in waves.

In comparison, the train ride to school is calm and quiet, save for the music you play for your ears alone. Your companion generally acknowledges you with a friendly, neutral gesture that you mirror, and the two of you are content with your unspoken rule to not speak. It is nice.

.::.

You absolutely do not want to do this. You tell him so.

"Please, Minato!" Kazushi begs, hands clasped together and eyes intent. "You'd only have to come in a few times - promise!" You start to waver (_only a few times?)_, and the other boy must notice this because he presses on, "The freshmen really look up to you, and they'd _definitely_ improve if it was you coaching them!"

You outwardly sigh, and Kaz grins victoriously. "Thanks, man! Knew I could count on you!"

You wave a hand dismissively, and he leaves to go tell the team the good news. You frown a bit, torn between wanting to help the struggling kouhai and missing out on your peaceful mornings. You suppose you'll just have to go along with it for now.

You spare a thought for your silent train compatriot, but you are certain he wouldn't worry over your absence. Regardless, you'll only be gone a few days.

.::.

You are gone for longer than a few days. Apparently, there had been a misunderstanding, and the head coach had wanted you to spend at least two weeks on the freshmen. You do not blame Kaz for the mix-up, nor the head coach for asking. You are merely glad that the impromptu training camp is now over, and you are looking forward to that cozy, still car and the two hour journey in blessed silence.

You do not get that, either.

"Where have you been?" The boy asks you as soon as he steps inside the train, clearly concerned. It is the first time you have heard his voice, and you find it to be surprisingly pleasant.

Realizing the boy is actually awaiting an answer, you remove an ear-bud and explain succinctly, "Kendo practice."

"Oh," He says, and then awkwardly adds, as he claims his usual seat across from you, "My name is Akihiko Sanada. I'm a third year at Gekkoukan."

You regard him with a sharp gaze, and amusingly enough, he seems to become even more uncomfortable. You might as well see where the boy, Akihiko, is going with this; you recognize the body language of someone looking for conversation, as you well should after the past few weeks. You relax your face into its default expression, put away your remaining earphone, and offer, "Minato Arisato, second year at Yasogami."

Akihiko takes the opening for what it is, and smiling a bit now, he asks, "So you're in the Kendo club?"

You suppose the boy _would _be interested in that. You shake your head and correct him, "I was only helping out some first years."

_Hikitate-geiko _is usually performed with a senior actually _in _the club, but you are far above anyone at this school, thanks entirely to your rivalry with Mamoru Hayase. The boy had been serious about training in the hopes of getting picked up by a scout and becoming a professional in order to take the load off of his family, and you'd challenged him every step of the way for that very reason. He had successfully done so by the time you'd transferred, and he'd promised to call you every once in awhile with updates.

It had been fun, faithfully attending club practice for someone else's sake, for a good cause, but you do not intend to do so again. Dropping by only occasionally is more than enough for you. Your opinion has only been reinforced after spending so many mornings the last couple of weeks dragging yourself out of bed much too early and having to repeat yourself to energetic freshmen.

Akihiko doesn't know any of this, of course, and you don't enlighten him. However, you do clarify, "I quit."

"Oh," He says again, after a pause. He then divulges, "I'm the captain of the boxing club." Ah. Your initial impression was spot on, after all.

You suspect the senior has difficulty accepting your nonchalance towards Kendo considering his obvious passion for boxing, but you are glad he does not question your motives. You owe him no explanation, and you are not willing to give one. You do not respond to the statement, either, and the boy doesn't push. The conversation ends as abruptly as it had begun, and you replace your earphones in the ensuing silence.

* * *

><p><strong>Notes: GAH! I'm just like- where do I go with this? I haven't pursued any of the romances in the game, so I'm not sure how Minato canonically becomes romantic with anyone. (He's so stoic!) And I don't have the version with Minako, so I don't know how <em>Akihiko <em>romances, either. It's just a mess. OTL I've been stuck on this one part for a few days, so to WNB it goes. Oh! And I haven't exactly finished the game (even if I already know the ending), so please don't spoil anything! Thanks! ^w^**


	11. Snippets!

**Notes: **These are a few snippets/ideas that haven't been fleshed out, but I'm still fond of them and felt like sharing. Enjoy.

* * *

><p><strong>Concept: Minato travelswakes up in an alternate universe - The Avengers 'verse - upon his death.**

**Category: Naruto/The Avengers Crossover**

He ends up in America and quickly figures out that there isn't any chakra in the air - meaning whenever he uses jutsu, rather than dispersing in the air, the energy returns to his body - the only thing able to contain it in this new world. So that means chakra exhaustion is pretty much not an issue to him at this point.

He learns English and seamlessly blends into the American society. After all, he is a shinobi, and they pride themselves on their adaptability and survival skills even in foreign environments. He IS a genius. He grieves for his wife and his son - knowing that he won't be able to meet them again for awhile - and then he moves on. Dwelling on what he's lost won't bring any of it back.

He comes to understand that technology in this new world is highly advanced, well beyond that of the simple tech he's used to. The machines seem to be able to do what his world's people had used seals for - such as the hospital. The air is polluted and stings his nose during the beginning, until he grows used to that, too. The world is overrun with civilians, even in the country's military. In fact, he believes there aren't any otherworldly powers such as his for most of his stay - that is, until a brilliant man named Tony Stark builds a robotic suit and assumes the persona of Ironman.

Then, like a domino effect, super powered beings begin revealing themselves, one after the other, and Minato, well, he's interested.

.

.

.

**Concept: Minato travels/wakes up in an alternate universe.**

**Category: Naruto**

He wakes up in an AU of his own world with a rather noticeable difference - Minato Namikaze never existed.

The overall events are the same, but the details differ. For one, the Fourth Hokage is Orochimaru - and not the sleazy, amoral man of canon, but the man he had been in the beginning and had shown a glimpse of at the end. Tsunade and Jiraiya are together, and although the man still travels and keeps tabs on his information network, they make it work. Tsunade is the Head Medic, but she has her own genin team - even if they're all jounin now. They are, all of them, close-knit and companionable.

Kushina married a different man and died giving birth to Naruto, whom Jiraiya sealed the Kyuubi into with her permission. Her husband was killed on a mission not long afterwards.

Minato wakes up to this bizarre world, de-aged and orphaned, and he takes it all in with grim acceptance. His wife had died with him, but he has the chance to watch over their son - who IS their son, alternate reality or not - and keep him safe. He just hadn't counted on endearing himself to countless other people in the process.

.

.

.

**Concept: Sasuke is the personification of fire.**

**Category: Naruto**

Sasuke is the personification of fire, and it takes being bitten (marked) by a snake of a man to remember as much.

He knows this: He is twelve, and he is the sole survivor of his Clan's massacre. It's his life's ambition to destroy the man responsible.

He knows this: He is ancient, both older than existence and younger than its creators, and he was murdered by his father as a newborn. It's his life's ambition to destroy the god responsible.

He realizes this: He is no longer bound to his duties. He is human, now - a human with inhuman abilities, but a human all the same.

He realizes this: He is inordinately fond of the children who make up his "team", as well as the man who watches over them. Perhaps his skills can be put to good use.

* * *

><p><strong>Notes: <strong>Uhhhh? Don't judge me for that last one. I'm not entirely sure where I was going with it, but I found it in my notes. Except for perhaps the middle one, I'll probably scrap these. If anyone else would like to use them, be my guest. I'd just like to know when/where you post it, so I can read it! :D**  
><strong>


	12. More Plot Bunnies

**Title: **n/a

**Summary: **Just a bunch of plot bunnies, actually.

**Category: **Naruto

* * *

><p><strong>FlirtyFriendly!Sasuke**:

He charms his fan girls (and boys!) by flashing smiles and with cheesy lines, and it's all just a tactic to keep them at a distance. And he'll still be the top of the class, but there won't be so much resentment towards him.

Maybe because Itachi is stoic and antisocial and Sasuke wants to be nothing like him?

He decides he's going to do the opposite of what Itachi wants him to do: make tons of close friends and become stronger for his own sake, not because Itachi wants Sasuke to hunt him down and kill him.

He's not going to waste time searching for and then killing him either - because why would he? Itachi will most likely come to him if the plan means so much to him, so it'll be on Sasuke's terms and he'll have the home field advantage.

As a result, Team 7 doesn't break apart, and there's a lot less hostility and in-fighting between the Konoha Twelve earlier on.

.::.

**OlderBrother!Sasuke:**

He's born first and is thus considered a prodigy, is groomed to be Clan Head, and everything. Itachi is still too mature for his age and an exceptional shinobi, but Sasuke and Mikoto team up and put their foot down when Fugaku brings up raising Itachi the same way as Sasuke.

"I won't let you. Itachi's already too mature for his age. Let him be a kid for a little while longer. I went along with it because I'm the next Clan Head, but he doesn't even have to be a shinobi if he doesn't want to be."

So Itachi enters the academy at age six and progresses at a normal rate with his peers - Sasuke won't let him skip grades.

"Make some friends, otouto. Have fun. You're going to be snatched up and put in the field as soon as you graduate, so enjoy this while you can."

He's put into the same position as Itachi was, but he's a lot more vocal about his opinions. He won't let the Uchiha rebel, but he doesn't like the village's unspoken but well known suspicions about the Clan.

He corners Sarutobi when he's alone (save for his ANBU guards) and makes his demands clear.

"We can't go on like this, Hokage-sama. My Clan is tired of our forced segregation from the village and the stigma that's surrounded us since the Kyuubi Attack." He levels the old man with a measured stare, divulging, "I'm afraid if something isn't done soon, we'll take matters into our own hands. Shisui and I are doing the best we can, but the others are getting restless."

"You would revolt?" Sarutobi surmises what had gone unsaid, mouth a grim line.

Sasuke nods. "I'd say we've got a few months, at the most."

If possible, the man's expression darkens even more. "I assume you have a plan to prevent this?"

"Promoting relations between clans, for starters. Allowing civilians and other clan members to join the Police force. Giving Uchiha more missions and putting them on teams with non-clan members. Putting civilians from Clans on the civilian committee. Removing the walls between our district and the rest of the village," Sasuke doles out the suggestions easily, having already discussed this with his family and Shisui more than a few times. "My father has approved all of it, and we both think it'll improve our standing with the village."

The Hokage had stoically smoked his pipe the entire time, but he sets it aside. Ruefully, he explains, "I'll admit, I was worried about your Clan and what you - or more specifically, your elders - might do should the situation get any worse." He folds his hands in front of him and regards Sasuke thoughtfully. "You're a good influence on your father, young man. I can only imagine how Fugaku would have reacted without your input."

He signals one of his men, who promptly appears beside him. "Yes, Hokage-sama?"

"Get the necessary papers and bring them to me as soon as possible. Share what has been said in this room with my advisors, the Clan Heads, and the committee chairmen. We have little time to spare." Sarutobi orders decidedly, and Sasuke knows that he'll come through.

"Yes sir," Cat affirms before flickering away to fulfill the orders.

The old man then addresses him, "You have my gratitude for bringing this matter to my attention. I realize that it must not have been easy, but you may have just salvaged the entire situation." Sasuke nods in acknowledgement, and the village leader smiles gently at him. "Good work. You're dismissed."

At this, he feels as if a great weight has been lifted from his shoulders. He returns home and shares the good news. There is still a lot work to be done; not everyone will look upon the new arrangements so kindly, Danzo especially. However, they're on the right path, and that's more than enough for him - at least for now.

Naruto marks Itachi as his rival - but because it's Itachi, the rivalry soon turns into a friendship, one in which they train together, and he realizes that Naruto isn't unintelligent - he just doesn't learn the same way as the other kids. He learns by doing, so Itachi allows him to practice at their personal training grounds or his backyard. His grades improve drastically.

Mikoto is worried at first that their friendship will have a negative impact on the Clan - which is already under lots of suspicion - but he's Kushina's son (anyone with eyes would be able to tell; she honestly doesn't know what Sarutobi was thinking) and he's a small, lonely, lost little boy - and her youngest son is taken with him, so she welcomes him with open arms and a smile.

Fugaku allows it, especially once Sasuke, Mikoto, _and_ Shisui gang up on him with "He's a little kid" and "They're just friends; it's not like we're not adopting him" and "Itachi doesn't click with just anybody. Would you really take away his only friend?" He relents gracefully, and soon Naruto is spending the night at their house at least three times a week.

Sasuke regards him with some resignation, some fondness, and equal parts amusement and irritation - mostly because the boy pushes buttons and gets a kick out of messing with him. He thinks had they been the same age, they'd have come to blows. Nevertheless, he is fair, and he gives the kid piggyback rides when he's too tired to walk home, and he helps him with his training, and he doesn't ignore him when he's talking, nor does he dismiss the kid's dream of becoming Hokage. And he basically treats him like another brother. Itachi's quiet gratitude and Naruto's mumbled "thanks" and tiny hugs are more than enough repayment.

In the end, their plan works, and there's no coup or massacre. Danzo contacts Sasuke and threatens him, but he shuts that down real quick. He informs Sarutobi, and the old man finally holds his old teammate responsible for his crimes. He resists arrest, and that's when they find out Ne Root had been operating in secret this whole time. Eventually, Danzo is killed, and Root is taken care of. Its members who weren't loyal to him are put into a rehabilitation program wherein they rediscover themselves and their emotions. The shinobi rank grows a little bigger afterwards.

Itachi graduates at the age of twelve and ends up on a team with Naruto and a civilian girl named Sakura. Hatake Kakashi is their sensei. The first time he's over three hours late, Mikoto herself hunts him down and very politely (chillingly) asks that he has the decency to show up on time and actually train the son of his former sensei - since he'd basically abandoned him as soon as the man had died. Kakashi is never late to the Team 7 related stuff again.

.::.

**Sasuke snippet?**

He is a bright child, easily excitable and full of potential. He is born the second son to a prestigious family and the younger brother to a lauded genius. He is ambitious, competitive, and resentful and adoring in equal parts. His mother spoils him, his father disciplines him, and his brother stands before him, an obstacle to be overcome and a role model to aspire to be.

The massacre rips all of that away, breaks him and chews him up and spits the pieces back out. He gathers them up and tries to put them back together, but some parts have gone missing and others are jagged, decrepit mockeries of what they used to be. There are new pieces now, and they are dark, sinister, full of emotions he has never experienced - hatred, bitterness, loneliness, betrayal.

His ambition is twisted and transformed into a desire for revenge. The word tastes of ash in his mouth, but he bears its meaning anyway. He is no longer Uchiha Sasuke, second son of the Clan Head. Now, he is the last Uchiha, the survivor, the orphan, the prodigy, the avenger.

He wears these titles, not with pride, but with resignation. They remind him of his weakness, of his ultimate failure, but he will rectify it soon. He need only become stronger.

Strong enough to kill That Man.

.::.

**Girl who leapt through time AU:**

- how about something loosely based on the movie? Like I use the concept of time leaps but nothing else?

- and apply it to Naruto?

...that would get depressing fast.

- In case you forget: she has to get a running start and actually leap in order to travel through time. She can go back as far as she wants, and the amount seems connected to the number on her arm. (But I can take or leave that bit)

- Kiba, maybe? Because I write too many stories about Team 7 and Sasuke in particular.

- He's on a C-Rank mission with Naruto after Sasuke's defection when he stumbles upon/breaks this artifact thing, which knocks him unconscious.

- Later on, he's about to be hit by an enemy attack that he won't be fast enough to dodge, and the next thing he knows, he's landing behind the enemy. He regains his bearings and unleashes his own attack, securing his victory. But he reflects on it and is weirded out by it. Had he just gone back in time?

- He goes to Kurenai for advice, but she tells him that traveling through time is impossible. The closest anyone's ever gotten would be the Fourth Hokage's Hiraishin, which is more teleportation than time manipulation.

- "Perhaps, you used the body flicker jutsu subconsciously. It's been known to happen when a shinobi is under duress."

- Kiba reluctantly agrees and drops it, but it still bugs him later. What if...? He couldn't help but wonder. What if he had travelled through time?

- So he tries it out. Meditating does him no good, nor does concentrating really hard. He wouldn't know where to start with hand signs, and that's dangerous anyway. Even he knows that much.

Akamaru eventually suggests the library, which Kiba saves for last - because reading isn't really one of his favorite things to do, newfound maturity or not. He sucks it up, though, and after inquiring with the librarian, he finds a paltry selection of scrolls and texts on chakra theory, some fantasy and science fiction novels that look kind of interesting, and a dissection of space time techniques and their possible uses outlined in a thick, dusty, old notebook.

- He spends a few hours sequestered away at a table skimming through the books on chakra theory (simply because there's a lot more of those), but most of it goes over his head. The rest covers stuff he already knows, and none of it is the least bit helpful.

The novels are, as he'd suspected, a little more intriguing, but they're ultimately based in fantasy. Thus, their methods involving time travel are entirely out of Kiba's reach. A few of them had even been set in worlds without chakra. Kiba had set those aside immediately.

His last hope is the unappealing handwritten mess of a notebook, which he checks out and takes home. Night had set in while he'd been researching; that's definitely a first.

- The book will point out that time itself doesn't move backward but that it could be possible for a person to leap back in time or something like that. He'll remember that he'd been leaping when it first happened, so he puts two and two together. The next day he leaps, focusing on a specific time, and it works! So begins his time related adventures.

- At first, he leaps back a day, rolling crazily into his bedroom. He soon leaps back to present time, though. It takes him a few more tries to stay longer than a few minutes.

- He starts to realize he can change the past. He can go back to missions and complete them sooner because he now knows where whatever item is or where and when the enemies will attack.

- Then, experimentally, he leaps back to before the chunin exams, which is also before the Invasion, before the Sandaime's death, before Sasuke defects.

- He's gotten the hang of it by now, so he can stay as long as he wants; although part of him understands that he'll eventually have to go back to the present.

- So he takes the exams a second time. He's still cocky, but he tries not to be too condescending to Naruto (without raising suspicion.) He knows exactly how far Naruto is willing to go to protect his friends as well as how strong he actually is.

- He has a Plan. Naruto had told him what happened to Sasuke, to all of them, during the second part of the exams. They'd been attacked by Orochimaru, who had given him the curse Mark.


	13. baby don't forget my name

**Title: baby don't forget my name (when the morning breaks us)**

**Summary: He's watched enough time travel movies to know that, usually, this kind of thing comes down to 'fixing' something - preventing a death, getting the girl, doing that thing you always regretted not doing. And for Shogo, that had been being faded out of everything he'd ever felt was of any import. [Time Travel. Eventual NijiHai. Fix-it.]  
><strong>

**Category: Kuroko no Basket**

* * *

><p>"Shogo, wake up!" The familiar nagging voice of his mother travels from downstairs. "You're going to be late!"<p>

Shogo instinctively grimaces and shouts back irritably, "I'm up already!"

She huffs something back, but he blocks her out and blearily opens his eyes. His room is as messy as ever. He licks his dry lips and sits up, throwing the covers aside.

He shuffles down the hall and to the bathroom on auto-pilot, entirely too tired to think about anything other than taking a piss and brushing his teeth. The former done, he moves over to the counter and grabs his toothbrush. Lathering it with a generous glob, he begins the routine brushing and glances idly at his reflection in the mirror as he does so.

He promptly chokes on his own spit. "What the fuck?" He manages, and the face staring back at him looks as disbelieving and confused as he sounds. Only, that face belongs to a little kid, not a fucking twenty-two year old.

He blinks a few times, thinking maybe he's sleepwalking or something, and then, brush still in his mouth, he pokes and prods none too gently at his face and hair. He even tries a good slap, which leaves a red mark, but it's no good. Shogo's still gawking at a baby-faced teenager.

"What the fuck," he says again, but it in no way encompasses the sheer fuckery of what is going on right now.

Belatedly, he glances down at his body and lifts up his shirt. His rippling muscles are gone, as are the various scars he's accumulated from fights over the years. His skin is entirely free of any ink, and since he knows he got his first tattoo in high school, this must be back when he was in middle school.

In a daze, he returns to his room and actually takes it in this time - the familiar-unfamiliar clothes, the dirty sneakers, the old game consoles. It's like stepping back in time- and then Shogo snorts, because no shit, _he's fucking gone back in time._

Running a hand through his hair, he frowns and thinks, more seriously, '_I'm a time traveler.'_ What is he supposed to do with that?

"I'm leaving for work! Make sure you grab your lunch before you leave! Don't cause any trouble, Shogo!" His mom yells tiredly, thoroughly breaking him from his musings.

"Yeah, all right! You'd better come back safe, you old hag!" He finds himself hollering back, the image of his mother collapsing from overwork forever ingrained in his mind.

It happened during his second year of high school, and it's what made him cut back on his fooling around all the time and decide to find a part time job. He got fired a lot in the beginning for running his mouth and starting fights, but he eventually got the hang of it. He had to curb his violent tendencies and revert his hair back to its original fluffy, gray, but he kept his job. The extra money put less strain on his mom, so it had been worth it. He'll never understand her, but he does love the old lady.

That being said, he doesn't plan to let her collapse even once if this time travel thing is legit.

He hears her laugh. "Love you, too!" Then, the door shuts audibly behind her, and he rolls his eyes. That woman does whatever she wants. Drives him nuts.

Now that his temporary distraction is gone, however, he has to- deal with this. Somehow. Curiously, he peeks inside his closet and is not particularly surprised by the white and blue uniform that greets him.

"Teiko, huh?" He mutters, eyeing the unassuming clothing with no small amount of bitterness.

Shogo had thought he was over this, by now, but maybe there's a reason he's a pipsqueak again. There's probably no other time in his life that had affected him so significantly. High school had been a wake-up call, sure, and in some ways, it had brought him closure. His first year, he'd finally been bested by Ryouta, and he'd been privy to Daiki's right hook. (He'll never admit to being relieved someone had stopped him from doing something stupid.)

There had also been Seirin's comeback win against Rakuzan, which had even inspired something within him. However, over the next two years, he'd given up basketball for work and had only occasionally heard about the games between the Miracles. Basketball and high school - it had all come to a rather anticlimactic end for Haizaki Shogo.

He barks a laugh. "What am I, an old geezer?" Because those thoughts had been tinged with a regret Shogo hadn't even known he'd felt.

Sure, junior high had been interesting. The Miracles had all been little babies, only just growing into their potential, but Shogo had been there from the beginning, too. Basketball had just kind of happened to him. He fell into it, like he fell into video games, and he stuck with it because he was good at it. Even so, he didn't love basketball; he wasn't Tetsu or Daiki. But he did like it, and that, he thinks, is more than enough. Without fail, Nijimura found him and dragged him back and made it enough. But...

He'd been there from the start, and he'd been good - but not good enough, apparently. Ryouta came in like a whirlwind in their second year, and Shogo had been promptly booted out, his spot handed over to the rising star without hesitation. He'd been bitter and angry and hurt, and maybe after all these years he can understand Seijuro's explanation. Might even believe it. But at the time he'd been nursing a grudge, licking his wounds, and when even Nijimura hadn't spared him another glance after that? He'd become a ticking time bomb, ready to explode at the tiniest upset.

He feels tears gathering in his eyes, and he wipes them away disgustedly. "Fuck," he grunts, because Shogo sucks at lying, especially to himself. He knows exactly why this stupidly impossible thing has landed him in the worst and best time of his life, and with a sinking feeling, he's becoming more and more sure of what he's supposed to do.

"You want me to fix this clusterfuck?" He grumbles to no one in particular. He's watched enough time travel movies to know that, usually, this kind of thing comes down to 'fixing' something - preventing a death, getting the girl, doing that thing you always regretted not doing.

And for Shogo, that had been being faded out of everything he'd ever felt was of any import - basketball, friendships with the Miracles and Nijimura, his entire academic life. For all his blustering, he'd wanted to be included, too, and damn if he isn't blushing at the thought.

He gives the uniform one last glance, and then he resolutely shuts the door. There's no way in hell he's going back right now.

Since his brother always had the tendency to head to school at ungodly hours of the morning, he knows the house is empty. A good thing, too, because Shion wouldn't hesitate to rat him out for skipping, and he doesn't want to deal with a lecture from his mom.

He takes a shower, using up all the hot water and staying in long enough that his hands become pruney, but when he emerges, he feels a little more like himself. He wears his cockiness like a mask, yeah, but after all this time, it's more like putting on a comfy blanket rather than a brittle sheet. He smirks, and it feels like it belongs on his face.

He spares a moment to towel off his hair, and then he throws on a relatively clean t-shirt and some shorts. Making sure to grab his wallet, phone, and keys, he toes on his shoes and then heads out, locking the door behind him.

He walks around aimlessly for a while, idly taking stock of the buildings and shops that he vaguely recalls have either closed down or been replaced. Although some of the old advertisements are jarring, the people haven't changed a bit, still rushing around busily, like little worker bees. He would have been one of them had he not inexplicably woken up ten years in the past. As it is, he doesn't have a destination in mind and only occasionally has to duck around the businesses he knows would report him for ditching.

Around lunchtime, he grabs a bite to eat at a Maji Burger, and it's only then that he thinks to check his phone. He has five messages and one missed call, all of them from the same glowing name: Nijimura.

Shogo feels a foreign thrill tun through him before he ruthlessly squashes it and reminds himself that here, in this time, this is normal. Nijimura had likely noticed his absence from morning practice, which would explain the two threatening messages from a few hours ago. The next one demands why he hasn't shown up at school at all, and Shogo figures Nijimura must have come looking for him in his classroom. The last two are more threats, promising punishment if Shogo doesn't show up to afternoon practice.

He smiles a little, unbidden, and just to be a little shit, he sends back that he doesn't feel like going. Then, he tucks his phone back in his pocket and proceeds to slurp the last of his chocolate shake. He burps loudly, and an old lady gives him a disapproving sniff. He flips her off, and then he's back on the streets.

Somehow, rather than any of his old haunts, his wandering feet take him to an empty basketball court. A lone ball sits in the corner, and really, is he even surprised by his luck at this point? He accepts whatever force led him here, gives in and goes with it because- suddenly he really wants to play basketball.

He grabs the ball and dribbles it, slowly and almost hesitantly at first, but soon, he's moving all over the court, dodging around phantom opponents and making game-winning shots like he was born to play. Maybe he was. He musters up an old memory of a move he'd stolen once upon a time, and it comes back easily. His body molds itself into the image in his mind, and he makes the impossible throw. It swishes as it sails through the net, and Shogo whoops, delighted.

He spends the next few hours attempting to steal moves from the players in his memories, pushing his body to its limit and beyond and not caring in the slightest. He feels lighter than air, unburdened, and he can't remember when last he felt anything similar. For the first time in forever, Shogo laughs unabashedly and freely, allows himself to do so, and he can finally understand why Tetsu always waxed poetic about this sport.

Eventually, however, the high fades, and the fatigue sets in, the punishing reckless playing of his finally taking its toll. He sinks to the ground, panting hard, and he listlessly rolls over onto his back. His whole body aches, and he's sweating buckets. But. As he stares up at the clear blue sky, he realizes the peace he'd found while playing hasn't gone away, and he suspects it won't. This, too, was something he'd been denying, so much that he'd fallen for it himself.

He loves basketball. He, Haizaki Shogo, fucking loves basketball. That's why he felt like a piece of him was missing after he quit, why his hands always itched to do- something. It's why he was so upset about being replaced, and it's why he tried so desperately to prove he shouldn't have been.

"Damn it," he says under his breath, tears streaming down his face without his permission. "Damn it!" He mutters again, with more force. He really is an idiot. He almost wants Daiki to show up and punch him again, stop him from doing something stupid.

"So you skipped _practice_ to play basketball _by yourself_?" A bemused voice jerks him out of his reverie.

He sits up, turns away, and scrubs at his face hurriedly. With more irritation than he feels, he retorts, "The hell's it to you?"

There's a beat of silence, and then-

A burst of pain in his head. He clutches it instinctively and hastily moves onto his feet and out of the strike zone. "Oww! Fuck!" He glares at the perpetrator. "Why?!"

Nijimura regards him irritably. "I told you to come to practice, didn't I?" Shogo looks away with a huff, and Nijimura crosses his arms. "So? What's the excuse this time? Got a cold for the third time this month? Or maybe you got lost on the road of life?"

Shogo snorts. Still rubbing the sore spot, he says scornfully, "I traveled back in time and didn't want to see you dipshits again."

Nijimura punches him. "Fuck- stop! What's your problem?!"

Even as he's getting bruises, Shogo secretly preens under the attention. He really is fucked up, isn't he? Lapping up the attention of this abusive dickwad like a love-struck school girl.

"You're not even wearing your uniform," Nijimura observes. "You didn't plan on going to school at all today, did you?"

Shogo just barely manages to glean the worry behind the bastard's permanent scowl, likely there because he'd rarely ever skipped full days. This, more than anything, is why he'd gotten so attached. Shogo shifts in place awkwardly. "S'not like anything happened. Just didn't feel like going." He turns around and waves a hand lazily. "See ya."

Before he can make his escape, Nijimura's hand shoots out and grabs his collar in an iron-clad grip. "Oh no. You're going with me even if I have to drag you there."

And that's what he ends up doing, much to Shogo's consternation. He tries to bargain and get Nijimura to let him walk instead, but the other boy says he knows Shogo would just try to slip off the moment he let his guard down. He has to concede the point, and so his old senpai literally drags him all the way to Teiko.

It's not his best moment.

It's only about ten minutes later that he realizes they're headed in the wrong direction. The buildings around him are familiar, so he hadn't thought much about it. But they're not buildings he passes on the way to _Teiko_. He glances up at Nijimura in confusion. "What are you doing? I thought you were taking me to practice."

Nijimura scoffs. "You'd pass out if you tried to keep up with the first string practice now, idiot."

Okay, while that's a good point - not that he'd admit it - it doesn't answer his question. "So you're taking me _home_?" Because the only destination awaiting them down this particular path is a string of modest housing, including Shogo's.

"Like I'd leave an exhausted baby first year out on the streets for any unsavory person to find," Nijimura says, and Shogo can hear him rolling his eyes. "As your captain, I've got to look after all of you, even stupid kids who are always looking for trouble."

Shogo scowls, "I can take care of myself!" But inside he is secretly pleased.

Nijimura doesn't bother answering.

Once they arrive, Nijimura unceremoniously dumps him on his own doorstep. Shogo glares at him out of a habit that he'd thought he'd grown out of a long time ago. "You'd better be at practice _and_ school tomorrow," Nijimura commands with all the authority of his position.

Shogo breaks eye contact with a frown, still not entirely sure he's ready to face those fucking Miracles, but he eventually huffs, "Yeah, yeah, I'll be there."

Nijimura looks at him for a long moment, enough that Shogo begins to fidget under the attention. "See you later, then," he says, and then he darts his hand toward Shogo's head without warning. Shogo instinctively closes his eyes and braces for the impact, but it doesn't come. Nijimura ruffles his hair, smirks at his bewildered expression, and then walks away.

"Bastard!" Shogo recovers enough to yell after him, but there's no heat in it. His chest feels light, and he's got a stupid grin on his face. He fumbles with his key, unlocking the door and then kicks off his shoes and heads straight for the shower. The light feeling stays with him until his mother comes home and - after realizing he'd skipped - lectures him.

* * *

><p><strong>End Notes: <em>I have so many Haizaki feels right now, and I don't know what to do with them. <em>So here's this. I don't know where to go from here exactly, but I'll be working on this in between my other stuff so long as Haizaki has a grip on my pathetic, bleeding heart. GAH. Just... if anyone has any suggestions about the plot or whatever, I'd love to hear it. **


	14. more snippets, mostly sasuke-centric

**I've got tons of stuff I've been working on, and it's going to be a long while before I ever get around to finishing them - if ever, so here, have some of my works in progress. A few of them are even excerpts of ideas that I've posted in previous chapters.**

**You're all 1000% welcome to these ideas, by the way. You can even use snippets of my writing, as long as it only comes from pieces here in Work Never Begun - AND if they have no pairings, please keep them that way! I know I'm not the only one who dodges and/or sighs a little in disappointment at fics with unnecessary romances. **

**_I just want to read them without having to write them myself! Is that too much to ask? OTL_**

* * *

><p><strong><em>Where My Demons Hide<em>  
><strong>

**Summary: Naruto and Sakura die on their first mission outside of the village, and Sasuke, grief-stricken, is quick to join them. Then he wakes up again, on the day before they set out, as if it had never happened. (OR: Team 7 develops a formidable reputation, and Sasuke learns what it means to be strong.) Time Loop. No Pairings.**

**Notes: I'm not completely certain if 'Clan' is supposed to be capitalized when it's by itself, but I usually do so with regards to Sasuke's POV because I feel that to him, it should be. It should be capitalized, italicized, underlined (although of course I don't do _all_ of that) - because it's important to him. It's everything tohim. Eheh, hope that makes sense. ;P**

_"When you feel my heat, look into my eyes, it's where my demons hide; it's where my demons hide." _

**I.**

His eyes fly open, and his hands frantically remove his clothing before he is even consciously aware of it. Heart beating wildly, he stares down at his unblemished chest, brain whirring, trying to make sense of this impossible situation. Because it _is_ impossible - he _knows _it is. People don't come back to life, not after being gutted like a fish, not after they breathe their last breath, no matter how many tears you cry or how hard you wish it wasn't so. Life is cruel, and death is final - this Sasuke has known for some time, and to have it so easily disproved- No, he doesn't believe it, _won't _believe it. There has to be another explanation.

He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, exhales.

He then takes notice of his surroundings, now that he's calmed down, and realizes he is in his bedroom back in Konoha. Funny, that, because he distinctly remembers leaving the village on a mission several days ago. Could he have dreamed that up, as well? Has his own sick mind tired of taunting him about his inability to do anything about his Clan, and so it's decided to conjure up new nightmares? He frowns, glancing at the dawning light from his window, and decides to find out just how much of that had been real.

He dresses quickly, taking a moment to check the date, and then heads to his team's usual spot on the bridge, intent on gleaning answers from his teammates. They'd all eventually gotten fed up with the ridiculous amount of D-Ranks their masked-sensei had forced upon them, but Naruto had been the most obviously bothered. It was his outburst to the Hokage that had gotten them a higher-leveled mission. Sasuke's plan is simple, really. If the blond is cheerful, that part of the dream, at least, had been accurate, but if he's still brooding, none of it was real.

As the minutes drag on, he becomes impatient (and only very slightly worried), willfully ignoring the blood-splattered images that keep trying to gain his attention and the caustic voice in the back of his mind whispering, _"You couldn't save them. You couldn't save yourself. You can't save anybody_." When Sakura sleepily shuffles into view and Naruto, close behind her, he is both incredibly aggravated and stupidly relieved. He makes none of this known, however, carefully keeping his expression neutral as he surreptitiously observes the two.

"It's way too early," Naruto yawns loudly, dropping to the ground and leaning his back against the railing.

Sakura chirps, "Good morning, Sasuke-kun~!" as soon as she lays eyes on him but otherwise limits their interactions to that. He suspects that although her crush on him hasn't diminished, her fanaticism has faded, most likely due to their constant close proximity and the lack of pressure and competition from the other girls. She's begun to treat both he and Naruto as actual people rather than as objects of affection (in his case) and annoyance (in Naruto's), and  
>Sasuke can admit to himself that he likes her better this way.<p>

He's reluctantly grown somewhat fond of _both _of them, something that's been brought to his attention even more so after last night. He doesn't want either of them to die at any rate, and he doesn't want to be too weak to protect them. He _has _to become stronger - that hasn't changed. He just has more motivation, and surely that can only be a good thing.

After the other two wake up a little more, they engage in idle chatter, which Sasuke stays out of save for a few nods or dismissive huffs whenever they address him. Naruto eyes him weirdly when he passes up the opportunity for an insult, but he doesn't bring it up. He tells himself that it's because he's waiting for vital information, and arguing with the idiot would interfere with that. (But a small part of him can't bring himself to do it - just yet. He ignores it.)

It doesn't take long for the usual topics of conversation to dry up, and complaints about their sensei arise in the aftermath. Finally, Naruto mutters, "Ugh, why is he always so late? We're just gonna be doing stupid D-ranks all day anyway!"

Inexplicably, at those words, his chest feels lighter, and it's somehow easier to breathe. It was just a dream - a nightmare. Thinking about it now, it was foolish of him to get so worked up over it.

**End Notes: I'm a little stumped at this part. I delete everything I attempt to write following this opening scene, so maybe I just rewrite it? I don't know. ugh.**

.::.

**_no title as of yet_**

**Summary: n/a**

**Notes: More Sasuke and time loop stuff because I'm a sucker for these types of stories, apparently. It's mostly just dialogue? And I don't know what I'm trying to accomplish here, exactly. It's certainly a strange little piece.  
><strong>

**I.**

"No matter what I do, you always die," Sasuke says without prompting, not even pretending to struggle against the ninja wire.

Kakashi pauses. That had probably been the last thing he'd been expecting to hear. "Maa, I'm right here in front of you, aren't I?"

Sasuke ignores him. "Leaving the village makes it... easier. I can handle it then. When I'm not there."

"Not there to see me die?" Kakashi attempts to make sense of whatever Sasuke's trying to tell him.

Sasuke glares at him, but it's without heat. Weary, dulled. The eyes of someone who's seen death. He shouldn't have eyes like that. "Not just you. Naruto and Sakura, too. Sometimes one of the others, but it's always Team 7."

"And they - we - die?" Kakashi prompts him. "How?"

"Don't know. It always changes. So far, it's been stupid accidents. Enemy-nin. Orochimaru." He smiles, and there's no humor in it. "Mostly, it's Danzo and the members of Akatsuki."

Kakashi tenses imperceptibly. "How do you know that name?" And even he's not sure which one he means. Both. Neither.

Sasuke smirks humorlessly. "I killed one and joined the other until I killed them, too." He shrugs listlessly. "I always make sure it's me who slits the old man's throat, but it's usually you guys who deal with Akatsuki since they're after Naruto."

"Oh?" Kakashi says, casually. He eye-smiles. "And why are you telling me this?"

The Uchiha finally shifts his gaze, looks toward the sky. "It won't matter. It never does. I'll leave, and you'll die, and nothing will change."

Kakashi hums understandingly, even if nothing makes sense right now. "What if you don't leave? Stay here and keep us safe. Use what you know and make a change."

"You don't think I've tried that?" And there's the anger he'd been looking for when he'd planned this confrontation. Sasuke's eyes flash dangerously. "I told you nothing I do matters! If I stay here, Orochimaru just comes after me anyway! Or Danzo takes me or makes a move and one of you always, always gets caught in the crossfire!"

He must be on a roll now because he continues heatedly, "You don't know how many times Naruto, the idiot, sacrificed himself for me! Or how many times Sakura got taken hostage and was killed! You usually live the longest, but after their deaths, you become self-destructive, careless."

He sucks in a sharp breath and whispers harshly, "I'm supposed to be the one who leaves you, all of you safe in your stupid, happy village with your stupid friendship crap. I was prepared to die to achieve my goals, and I didn't want any of you to be dragged down with me. But it happened anyway. It keeps happening."

Sasuke's anger drains out of him by the end, and he deflates, sagging back against the tree trunk defeatedly. He looks like he's aged ten years, and that, more than anything, convinces Kakashi that there's something more to this than delusions.

Gently, he asks, "Have you ever told anyone - this? Told me?" It comes out flat because Kakashi has always been blunt and playful and carelessly callous - but never gentle.

"Yeah," he says, and it's more hesitant than Kakashi's ever heard from him. Then again, this is a night for firsts. "Not you, not now. I told Naruto once, and the idiot promised to save me," Sasuke explains like it's utterly inconceivable to him that a friend could be worried about him.

Kakashi idly wonders what Sasuke's reaction would be if he told him he felt the same way. Sure, they apparently die in whatever future or visions are plaguing his student, but none of them remember any of it. If he has this right, Sasuke's the child who has to endure countless repeats of his own life, has to watch as they die over and over again, and he doesn't think he can escape the endless cycle. Kakashi's nightmares are pretty bad, but frankly what Sasuke's been through sounds like hell.

Heedless of Kakashi's musings, Sasuke goes on, "Obviously, that didn't happen. After that, I kept it to myself."

"Until now," Kakashi adds meaningfully.

Sasuke snorts. "We've gone through this a hundred times. You try to convince me that bonds and friendship are better than hatred and revenge, I ignore you, and I leave the village anyway." He sighs. "Guess I just got sick of you acting like you know everything."

Kakashi barely resists a snort himself. It's long been established that he knows next to nothing about anything of importance - and this is definitely out of his league. He doesn't admit any of this, of course. "Nobody's perfect," he retorts. "Do you know why I was assigned to your team?"

Sasuke comes back from whatever memory he'd drifted into, curious. "No, you never told me."

Kakashi hums. "The Hokage thought I'd be able to stop you from going rogue. Needless to say, I probably wasn't the best choice, and I knew it. He wouldn't hear any of it, though."

Sasuke's face grows oddly wistful. "My most precious memories were when I was a part of your team," he divulges, and Kakashi tries not to think that it's because he expects Kakashi to die and the slate to wipe clean, these words disappearing on the wind and into the night. "I wanted to stay with you and Naruto and Sakura. I wanted to continue like this forever, but..."

One of his tiny hands reaches up and grasps the curse seal, delicately, even though Kakashi can tell he wants nothing more than to rip it off.

"...I can't get rid of this. There's no future where I don't have it. I never go back further than the Second Exams. And as long as I have this, Orochimaru can control me, and Danzo can deem me a threat, and I... I can't... The one way to remove it is something I'm not willing to go through again."

He sets his jaw, and Kakashi knows that there will be no convincing him to reconsider that option, whatever it is. He doesn't ask.

Instead, he focuses on a different point of interest. "You said you never go further back than the Second Exams, but how far into the future have you gotten?"

"About two and half years," is the tired response. "Only a few times. Somehow, you've all gotten more reckless at different points in the timeline, and..." He trails off, reluctant once more, but Kakashi merely nods encouragingly. Sasuke goes on, quietly, "I can feel it when one of you dies. It's like- like a string's been cut, and I- ...Once all of the strings are gone, I wake up in the past, even though I can never remember closing my eyes or falling asleep."

That's... troubling. The obvious solution would be to ensure their - Team 7's - survival, but that would be difficult long-term. They're shinobi, for all that three of them are children, and their safety can never be guaranteed. There's also the question as to how long one or all of them need to survive before Sasuke is sent back again. Regardless of their lifestyles, they'll all die someday; would Sasuke still be dragged back to the past were the four of them to die of old age?

There's something else niggling him, and he asks, casually, "Have _you_ died yet, Sasuke?"

Sasuke flinches minutely, and that's confirmation enough. "I see."

Glaring at him, Sasuke spits, "I'm not suicidal, Hatake." Again, the anger diffuses quickly, and his voice is clinical as he goes on, "It seemed like it would work, at the time. The three of you never remember your deaths, no matter how many times you die, no matter how many times it resets, but I do. So what if I died? Would I still remember?" His face manages a bitter smirk. "It was a waste of time. I woke up the same as always."

**End Notes: ...and goodbye motivation right here. What am I going for? I don't know.**

.::.

**_no title here either_**

**Summary: n/a**

**Notes: Here's that Cheerful!Sasuke AU I talked about two chapters ago. I planned to write it right up until the Yamamoto-reborn-as-Sasuke plot bunny stepped up to home plate and hit it squarely out into left field.**

**I.  
><strong>

Rage burns like fire in his veins, like a heady, living thing - draining him, dragging him further into a dark, spiraling abyss of negativity. He sees **him** in his reflection, in every room in his house, in every training dummy and target, in every previously happy memory, and it ignites something dark and seething inside him. There's grief, too, always, always grief because his heart and soul were ripped out of him slowly and then all out once and spat back in his face, mocking him for being weak, so so weak.

He allows it, this unyielding fury, to simmer, to take up that empty hole in his chest, to warp him into something unrecognizable.

For the first week, he is left to his own devices, left to wander a ghost town and realize fully how he is so very, very alone. The loneliness eats at him, too. He keeps turning a corner and expecting to see that old couple who runs the dango shop ready with a smile or to pass one of their private training grounds always so full of children and adults alike training together, but there is no one else. The illusion melts away, along with his smile, and his heart stings, stings, stings.

He wanders too closely to the wall nearest the village one day and happens to hear laughter. The sound grates on his nerves, flares some righteous indignation within him. How _dare_ they laugh when this compound has become a graveyard? How _dare_ they run around jovially when an entire Clan was wiped out from under their noses? How dare they, how dare they, how dare they.

These thoughts spur him on, and his cycle of his misery and moping continues until a memory surfaces -

_"Kill your best friend."_

_"Come at me with these eyes."_

_"Hate me."_

_A cold, cold crimson gaze is the last thing he sees before everything fades to black._

- and slaps him across the face.

Isn't he doing exactly what _That Man _wanted? Wallowing in his hatred and pain, shutting everyone out and planning revenge - these are all things he was told to do, and like a lost little lamb, he's been obediently following orders, without question.

"No," he mutters aloud, quietly but with determination. He_ will not _compliantly listen to the words of _That Man_, not now, not ever. The times when Sasuke trotted along behind **him **like a puppy to its master are long gone. He's not going to be weak, not anymore, but he's going to become stronger his own way. _That Man _thinks Sasuke can only become stronger by killing his closest friend and seeking out revenge alone?

Not going to happen. He'll become friends with _everyone_, gain allies, and grow stronger _with_ them. That's the Leaf's motto, isn't it? Teamwork is the most important thing? Well, Sasuke is about to embrace that ideology wholeheartedly.

This- this petty notion to disregard **his** orders sparks something, an emotion other than hatred or grief or sadness - _satisfaction_. Satisfaction leaks into his expression, into his entire body as he fully realizes what, exactly, he's thinking of doing, and he finds that he likes it, _prefers_ it to the heaviness in his chest.

Sasuke Uchiha, _avenger?_ Revenge still lives within him, curls around his heart, his thoughts, but it's not consuming him as it did before. He _will_ get his revenge, but he'll take his _own_ path in order to achieve it.

**End Notes: I'm actually pretty fond of this, but I have zero motivation to go beyond this point. Any takers?**

.::.

**_no title_**

**Summary: It starts when he's eight years old and world-weary. He's far too grief-stricken and full of writhing, all-encompassing anger to pay any heed to it, but that's when it starts. [AU. Canon Divergence. No Pairings.]**

**Notes: Sasuke can see ghosts! It sounds super interesting, especially if you consider Uchiha!Ghosts floating about or important major characters! Probably. I do not have the dedication or talent to spin an impressive tale with this concept, but here's my attempt.**

**I.**

It starts when he's eight years old and world-weary. He's far too grief-stricken and full of writhing, all-encompassing anger to pay any heed to it, but that's when it starts.

The Uchiha Compound is nice and neat, clean because he's the only living person there, and his rage-pain hasn't culminated into a desire strong enough to destroy physical objects. No, his priority is killing his emotions, burying them alongside his Clan members and becoming no more than a blank face, the epitome of the image the Uchiha had wanted to show the world. He is proud and driven and strong - or he will be - and he doesn't have the time or energy to examine the silhouettes that are a little more faded than the others.

It starts then, but he doesn't notice until suddenly the Compound isn't so empty.

"Why, if it isn't little Sasuke!" A cheerful, familiar voice chirps as he strides through the empty streets. He pauses, suddenly furious that anyone but he would dare to enter here, and he whirls around, ready to fight and hurt and hate-

And he stops, staggers back, heart in his throat and tears in his eyes. "Obaa-chan?" He gasps out, rousing concern from the elderly woman who should be- who shouldn't be here.

She smiles at him, kindly. "Oh, you poor thing. I didn't mean to scare you, dear. Are you all right now?"

He shakes his head, frightened into honesty, and he gulps down his fear to demand an explanation. He manages to croak out, "How are you alive?"

She grows bemused, forlorn, and after a long moment, she sighs. "I'm not alive, Sasuke-chan. I'm, well, I'm a wandering spirit."

"Spirit?" He parrots, confusion beating out the terror monetarily.

"Yes," She confirms, and with a wave of her hand, she says, "Look at me closely, child."

He does so, squints at her with intense focus, and he spots the differences between her and any living person almost immediately. She's transparent, for one. Through her midsection, Sasuke can see the abandoned shop behind her, the one she and her husband used to run. Another clue is that she's not breathing; her chest isn't moving at all. And lastly, now that he's not panicking, Sasuke can tell that she's floating a few inches off the ground. He's not entirely sure shinobi can't do that with chakra, but considering the other things, he's pretty sure she's telling the truth.

He frowns, uncertain. "So you're a ghost?" And then the full force of that realization - of what it could mean - hits him. "Is- is my mom here too? And my dad? Please, Obaa-chan, are they ghosts too? Can I see them?" The desperation is overwhelming, the hope actually threatening to clog his throat. Because what if-? What if he can see them again, hear their voices, talk to them? He's never wanted anything more, except for possibly the entire incident that caused their deaths to be a nightmare, and he trembles with the sheer intensity of it.

Her expression wilts, eyes going soft and sad, and Sasuke knows what she's going to say before she says it. "I'm sorry, Sasuke."

He falls to his knees, and tears he'd thought had dried up completely come pouring out. He makes a desolate, horrible sound, and it turns into a sob. Disappointment clings to him, drags him down, down, down. His anger doesn't save him the pain, doesn't bubble up out of his gut and seethe under his skin. This last bit of hope dashed kills that, too, leaves nothing behind but despair and sadness and sorrow.

He doesn't wonder why or rage at the world. He allows the moment to drown him completely with no care or thought as to what might be await him when the tide recedes. For the first time since he kneeled before his parents' dying place the day after his entire world burned and then crumbled, he cries.

After what must have been forever and yet no time at all, he comes up for air and notices the ghostly presence calmly sitting next to him.

**End Notes: What is that lady doing? Why is she so cheerful? She's dead, so why is she so happy to see Sasuke? And wow, Sasuke. Like, super dramatic there, my guy. Calm down, yeah? Maybe don't jump to conclusions, okay? i'm not happy with this, obviously. writing is hard.  
><strong>

**bUT WAIT! THERE'S MORE:**

"-ou believe how awesome I was back there?" Naruto finishes boasting, walking backwards with his hands propped behind his head and looking very smug as he turns to Sasuke. "Mr. Cool over here was too scared to do anything."

He sniggers, and Sasuke slants him a glare but otherwise doesn't say anything. He's still on edge from that encounter earlier and can't seem to shake the awful, clogging sensation he always gets around Them. He's sure Kakashi has noticed his unease, and he doesn't want to let on just how unsettled he really is to the other two. Silence is his best course of action.

There's an awkward pause Sasuke's rebuttal should have filled, but Sakura quickly covers for him. "Sasuke-kun didn't need to step in. Those guys were way too weak," she snaps, without much heat. Tensions between the three of them have cooled considerably since their first disaster of a C-Rank, and even he can admit a grudging sort of fondness for the other two - in the comfort and privacy of his own mind.

It's as good an excuse as any, so he offers agreement with a quiet, "Hn." Sakura shoots him a pleased grin, and Naruto scowls off to the side, grumbling about him no doubt. He allows a little amusement to bleed into his expression, but it's chased away as he inevitably thinks back to what had just happened.

He'd been in position, watching and waiting for their enemy - a couple of bandits, not even a challenge as Sakura had pointed out - when a faint voice had called out to him. It had sent chills down his spine with its aching familiarity, and Sasuke had known right down to his bones who that voice belonged to and what he would see if he turned around.

He turned.

**End Notes: Alternate scene! I'm almost happy with this one, but not quite. What do you think? (don't ask me what/who he saw. clearly i didn't get that far/got stuck on that part.)**

.::.

_**My Heart is a Ghost Town**_

**Summary: I'm not looking to be a hero, and I'm not really interested in saving the world either. I'm far too selfish for that. But conquering's in my blood, and this Ichigo kid seems to be unknowingly knocking down a whole bunch of hierarchies and societies while _he's_ fighting the good fight. As long as I grow stronger doing it, I can get behind that. Literally raising Hell is right up my alley. [Male!Orihime, SI OC, No Pairings]**

**Notes: Finally something that's not Sasuke! Yeah, I got super pumped about his, but I'm just not all that interested in writing original characters, even if I love reading about them. So this one's probably going to be on the back burner permanently, but we'll see. _Also I know the bare minimum about Bleach. This would be a disaster._  
><strong>

**I.**

I was nineteen years old when I died.

This is probably the part where I bemoan my boring life and wonder at length about why an Average Joe like me was put through the reincarnation cycle with all of my memories intact, but I'm not going to do that. I was far from average in my last life, and I have never been modest about it. I worked hard to be proficient in various martial arts, and I had a room full of trophies and awards back at my apartment for my efforts. I loved dominating competitions, and I thrived on one-upping my rivals. Conquering is in my very blood, and I lived up to my family's name. Honestly, my life was only going uphill, and death? Well, it certainly put a damper on that.

I can't remember all the little details of it. There might have been a car, or I could have slipped in the shower and hit my head. Or it could have been a million other things. Frankly, I'm glad it didn't stick with me, so I've never tried super hard to recall it.

The important part of all of this is probably when I realized I wasn't dead, right? Well, I didn't suddenly wake up in my new mother's womb, nor did I struggle with being an adult in a newborn's body. No, my memories didn't fully take root until I was twelve years old. Up until that point, I think they were there in my brain, just out of reach - kind of like when you know you know something, and it's on the tip of your tongue? When the old me merged with the me of this life, I wasn't surprised because I'd sort of always known, and I was relieved to finally have recalled what had been lost.

Then came the grief. I never did say why I suddenly remembered, did I? As far as I can tell, my older brother's death triggered it somehow. Maybe it was the emotional exhaustion or maybe it was the sinking feeling that my world had just disappeared with him, but in the middle of the funeral, as I was finally accepting the fact that he was never coming back, the memories slotted into place.

I'm not ashamed to admit I cried. It was the heart-wrenching, ugly crying of a broken-hearted, grief-stricken child and almost-adult all wrapped into one. Sora was everything to me. He was a mix between my brother and my father, the only solid connection twelve year old me had, and without him, I was lonely and scared and unbearably sad. And I missed him terribly.

The days following the funeral were spent in a haze of numbness as I allowed my distant relatives to take care of everything. I was a child for all that part of me wasn't, and I had no energy or desire to argue with them over bills and money and places to live. They were all insignificant compared to the aching hole in my heart, and so I hardly know what went on during any of it.

As I eventually learned, it had been decided I would continue to live in our apartment by myself, and as long as I kept my grades up, my aunt would provide me the basic necessities and pay my rent. I had been distantly glad that no one had forced me back into my parents' lives, and although the home I'd shared with my brother felt so much larger and emptier without him in it, it was also strangely comforting. It was still home, after all.

I gradually came back to myself, a little bit at a time, as I went through the motions of my new life. My routine of 'eat TV dinners, get a few hours of sleep, drag myself to school, do my homework' slowly but surely became 'try new recipes for dinner, sleep soundly, make some friends at school, study hard and complete all homework as soon as I get home.' Through all of this, I always made sure to pray to my brother's shrine.

Before I knew it, I'd turned thirteen, and my smiles and laughter were no longer faked. The hurt I'd felt since my brother died had been whittled down to a dull ache, and it was no longer painful to think of him. I finally felt okay again, and then... Well, then I met Tatsuki.

I should probably mention that the 'me' of this life was also (and still is) interested in martial arts and was no less talented than I had been at this age. If there has to be a universal constant, it's pretty silly that my fighting skills would be it, but I guess I'll take what I can get. Before the accident, Sora-nii had faithfully attended every one of my tournaments, had always greeted me smiling proudly like the big goof he was, and despite the fact that we'd never had a lot of money, he'd treated me to my favorite restaurant after every victory.

Needless to say, at my lowest point, I had barely even remembered the dojo, much less had the energy necessary to go there and train, and it was only after my thirteenth birthday did I even begin to consider going back. Obviously, I managed to convince myself to return, my urge to do something I love winning out over the bad memories associated with the activity. My brother would have wanted me to pursue the things I loved, would probably despair in the afterlife over him being the reason I didn't, and that thought comforted me more than words can properly convey.

And so with my grand return to the proverbial martial arts stage came my inevitable meeting with the one and only Arisawa Tatsuki - and the immediate, overwhelming realization that I had left behind something far more significant than just my life. I'm not even on the same world anymore.

Even knowing as I did that the impossible could be made possible, I had never once considered the fact that this wasn't the very same Earth I had once lived and died on, but in retrospect, lots of puzzling, little details, like names and places that didn't quite match up, suddenly made a lot more sense. I mean, I live in Karakura, Japan, and I vaguely recall a clinic on the other side of town with a very damning name - Kurosaki. There are a few more things of that nature, such as maybe spotting another kid with orange hair that's even brighter than mine and hearing about an old shop that's been in the town as long as anyone can remember, but none of that had ever screamed '_you're in a fictional world!'_ to me.

But the main reason it hadn't hit me until Tatsuki had befriended me and thus shoved the stark truth into my face, however, can be boiled down to one, simple fact: Orihime doesn't exist.

Specifically, she doesn't exist because I took her place. Confused? So am I, but I doubt it's for the same reason. To clear things up a bit, I'll get around to that introduction I've been meaning to do.

My name is Inoue Kyou, younger brother to Inoue Sora and apparently the male version of Inoue Orihime.

**End Notes: I kind of like this bit, but it's telling so much and showing so little. ugh. I rewrote it, as can be expected. Here's that.**

**I.**

I duck under the idiot's clumsily thrown punch and pop up between his outstretched arms, and then I grab his head and slam it into my knee. He goes down with a sickening crunch, and I dodge another blow from one of his buddies by twisting to the side. A high kick to the face throws him back, and I elbow the other goon in his throat when he sneaks up behind me.

They groan pitifully on the ground, and I loom over them with a grin. "Anybody up for round two?" I ask cheerfully.

"N-no thanks!" The leader of the group practically squeaks, as he stumbles to his feet away from me.

"We're good!" Another one yells, scrambling along behind him and dragging the unconscious guy by the back of his shirt.

"That's what I thought," I snort, rolling my eyes. I glance down at my uniform, and for once, there aren't any new tears. Good. I really didn't want to take another crack at sewing it back together.

I pick up my discarded bag and exit the alley. Those guys had been harassing a girl from my high school - going by the uniform - and so I stepped in and cracked some heads. She ran off as soon as they turned their attention to me. Too bad. She was kind of cute. Mournfully, I resume the trek home.

Home is a cozy, little two bedroom, one bath with a kitchen and a living room, and as I toe off my shoes and step inside, it feels as silent and empty as ever.

"I'm home," I call out to the smiling photo of my brother, and I take a moment to kneel down and pray at his shrine before recounting the incident earlier. "I got into another fight today, and I kicked their asses as usual. It was for a good reason this time, I swear!" I exclaim that last part quickly, as if my older brother is actually here to scold me.

I scratch my cheek sheepishly and not for the first time lament my utter lack of knowledge about this world. There are ghosts and shinigami and hollows, and Ichigo Kurosaki is the main protagonist - I know that much. But unfortunately, I only got to the first major arc before I dropped the series around freshman year, and I don't really remember all the plot stuff that happened before he broke into that soul place. Many of the finer details - and some big ones too - elude me, and it's a little frustrating sometimes.

So for all I know, Sora could still be lurking around here as a ghost, watching over me and worrying himself sick. That's why I usually run away from fights - by jumping over fences and running across walls and rooftops. I know this city inside and out, and those thugs can't catch me. Of course, my brother is probably just as worried about me falling off a building and breaking my neck or something, but I'm way too good for a rookie mistake like that.

"Oh! And I bumped into Kurosaki in the hallway. Event though his face is stuck perpetually in a frown, he's still adorable," I gush happily, imagining said frowning boy with a dreamy sigh. Thanks to the Internet, I figured out a long time ago that I'm ace/aro, but that doesn't mean I can't enjoy the aesthetics of a pretty face.

After some more gushing, I sit down at the table and start on my homework like the diligent, hardworking student I have to be in order for my aunt to continue paying for my necessities. I'd always been a smart kid, but studying wasn't something I'd ever had to do until I went to college and found myself overwhelmed by the workload. Not one to make mistakes like that twice, I formed good studying habits pretty early in this life. Because of that, the work is relatively easy, and I have it done in no time. I put it all away in my bag, happy that's over with.

Dinner is a convenience store bento, and I can almost feel Sora-nii fretting over it. However, even in my last life, I had never managed to cook anything edible, and this new one hasn't changed that. My brother had never had the time to teach me.

Idly, I glance at the calendar on the wall as I wash and dry my glass at the sink, and it suddenly hits me that tomorrow is the anniversary of my brother's death. It's been almost an entire year since the accident - and since memories of another life awakened inside my mind. Distantly, I see myself setting the glass down on the counter and walking back over to the shrine to kneel in front of it. My hands pick up the picture frame, and Sora smiles at me softly. After a long moment, I return the grin and hum to myself as I replace the photo and move to my bedroom to change out of my uniform.

I don't know why it took me thirteen years to remember my old life or why I was reincarnated - into a fictional world of all things - in the first place. I suspect the answer is something trivial, like a glitch in the system or some god up there with a penchant for mischief. Whatever it is, I've never felt like I don't belong here or that I stole the place of a beloved main character. Somehow, I was Kyou Inoue before I was that other version of me, even if chronologically it doesn't make sense, and I'm okay with that.

My whole life has been my brother, Sora, and this sleepy town of Karakura, Japan, and it's the new-old memories of a 'me' in America that don't feel real.

I throw on some boxers, turn off the light, and climb under the covers. I dream of snowfalls and younger days, and no matter how long I wait outside in the cold, no one ever shows up to greet me.

**II.**

"Oof!" Someone groans as they topple to the floor after colliding with me as I turned a corner.

"Oh, sorry about that!" I say sheepishly, peering down at the unfamiliar girl. I reach out to help her up.

"Don't worry about it." She looks up at me, and upon spotting my hand, she takes it gratefully and returns to her feet. "Thanks, uhhh... Inoue, right?" She guesses, smiling at me.

I blink, curious. "Yup. Inoue Kyou. Nice to meet ya..." I trail off invitingly, and her smile grows visibly amused.

"Orisawa Tatsuki. We're in the same class," she offers with a raised eyebrow. She's definitely judging me.

I laugh and give her my own grin. "Sorry, I'm not good with faces. Or names." Unless they belong to fictional characters, but that only applies to the few series old-me got really into. Needless to say, Bleach had never been one of them. It's a bit of a sticky situation I'm in, I'll admit.

**End Notes: I like this one better, but it's not telling enough? i am. not sure what to do. probably gonna drop this, tbh. **


End file.
